Little Shieldmaiden
by Showna EJ
Summary: Complete! Éowyn wants to learn how to fight, but her uncle's people are determined for her to be a normal girl. After she runs away, she will have to chose her uncle or her new foster parents, Arwen and Aragorn.
1. Orphans

Little Shieldmaiden  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. That masterpiece belongs to New Line Cinema and, of course, JRR Tolkien. I do own a muse named Pippin, he is up for sale. Please get rid of him for me!!  
  
'Aragorn's Lullaby' is actually Phil Collins' Come With Me  
  
  
Come with me, close you eyes  
  
Hold my hand, it'll be all right  
  
Don't be scared, don't be shy  
  
Lift your head, it'll be all right  
  
  
  
Chapter 1- Orphans  
  
  
"Daddy!" wailed the lithe seven year old girl. "Please daddy, do not go! Don't go again!"  
  
Èomund laughed loudly and swept his precious daughter Èowyn up into his saddle. "Would you come with me, my little shieldmaiden?" he asked jovially. "Would you come all the way to the Emyn Muil and fight huge monsters?"  
  
"Yes, yes!" chanted Èowyn happily flapping the stallion's reins. "I will fight now!"  
  
"You will fight one day," promised Èomund. "When you are eighteen years of age and properly trained, you will ride with the Rohirrim, I promise you my daughter."  
  
"Father, father!" cried Èomund's other child, Èomer, a fair boy of eleven. "May I go to war too?"  
  
"When you are older, you will both come with me," granted Èomer.  
  
"But, I will get to go first," bragged Èomer. "'Cause I am older than you Èowyn."  
  
"No you shan't!" argued Èowyn.  
  
"Yes I shall!" Èomer presisted.  
  
"Shan't!"  
  
"Shall!"  
  
"I'm the one on the horse, idiot!" snapped Èowyn, grey eyes glowing angrily.  
  
"Now, now," smiled the children's fair mother, Théodwyn, coming from the house. "What is all this about going to war?"  
  
Èomund swung down from the stallion and Èowyn leapt down into his waiting arms. He placed her beside Èomer. Still angry, Èomer crossed his arms and turned away. Èowyn stuck her tongue out at him. Théodwyn lighty swatted the rebellious, yet much beloved girl's head. "My little shieldmaiden and Rider wish to fight before they are grown," smiled Èomund. "Mark my words, my love, we shall have two grand warriors in this family!"  
  
"I do not doubt it," laughed Théodwyn.  
  
A Rider came galloping up the hill to their large home. "Come uncle!" laughed the Rider. "Say your farewells, we go to battle! I left the Rohirrim down in the valley, but all our impatient!"  
  
"I will come shortly, Théodred," promised Èomund.  
  
"Good day, aunt," greeted Théodred. "How do ye fare?"  
  
"Well enough," she answered. "And you, newphew-dear?"  
  
"I shall be far better when I ride to hunt accursed Orc!" announced Théodred, with a meaningful glance at Èomund. "Hurry yourself uncle! Yah!" The excitable man galloped back down the road on which he had come.  
  
"I will be back as soon as I can," Èomund promised, holding his wife's hands.  
  
"I know," smiled Théodwyn sadly. "Though it does not make parting any more the easier to bear. Farewell, my husband!"  
  
Husband and wife drew close and kissed. "Yech!" spat Èomer. "They're kissing!"  
  
"Eww," giggled Èowyn. The couple parted, smiling unabashed at their beloved children. Èomund swept Èowyn up and kissed her forehead.   
  
"Be good, little shieldmaiden," he teased. "And try not to kill too many Orcs. The poor things never stand half a chance against you!"  
  
"I know," smirked Èowyn when her feet touched the ground once more.  
  
"Take care of your mother and sister, boy," said Èomund, ruffling Èomer's hair.  
  
"I will," promised Èomer, clasping Èowyn's hand.  
  
Èomund leapt on to his horse and flicked the reins. "Yah!" he shouted. The horse leapt into a gallop. Laughing Èowyn and Èomer ran after the horse. At the edge of hill on which their house stood, they stopped. They stood waving and smiling through their tears as the group of the Rohirrim galloped into the distance. They watched until the last glint of sunlight on spear or helm had faded away. Then they turned back to their play, not knowing that they had seen their father alive for the last time.  
  
~*~  
  
Two long weeks passed, full of play. Occasionally, Théodwyn would pause in her children's games and look towards the Emyn Muil as though something troubled her. But always Èowyn or Èomer would tug at her sleeve and she would laugh lightly and the game would begin once more. Their father's absence did not affect Èomer and Èowyn over much. After all, Èomund was one of the chief Marshalls of the Mark and often away leading the Rohirrim on one hunting party or another. All that truly mattered to them was that winter was coming on and their outdoor play would soon be stunted for three months. This did not stop them from keeping a sharp watch nearer the end of the two weeks.  
  
However, no word or sign of the Rohirrim ever came, not until a stormy night when the party was almost a week overdue. Théodwyn had taken to neglecting her children and going riding far a field, waiting for her beloved Èomund to return to her. The people of the house loved Èowyn and Èomund as their own children, so the little ones still had many more than willing playmates.  
  
That day, Théodwyn did not go out. As her maid dressed her, she stared at herself in the looking glass. Her grey eyes were dull and her long blonde hair hung limp. She was very frail and if what her maid suspected was true, her beloved mistress might die of a broken heart. Théodwyn shook her head when Heilda brought forth a creamy blue frock. "Garb me in black Heilda," she said, voice devoid of emotion. "I can no longer fool myself. He is not coming back."  
  
"That is not true ma'am," soothed Heilda. "We must have hope!"  
  
"What hope have I?" demanded Théodwyn. "None, none at all. Do not speak to me of hope- just get out! Get out you witless girl!" In a fey mood, she threw a priceless vase at Heilda. The poor girl shrieked and fled as the vase shattered in a hundred pieces.  
  
"Èomund!" wailed Thédowyn. "Èomund!" She flung herself on her bed and wept.  
  
~*~  
  
Late that night, Èowyn lay wide awake, listening to the torrents of rain outside her window. Words of one of the servant girls rang in her head. 'Miss Théodwyn has realized it now, that the master won't be returning!' Heilda had declared. 'I don't envy the one who has to tell the children- such lively things they are! They were very fond of their father- it will break their dear hearts!'  
  
"Stupid fat Heilda," whispered Èowyn to the darkness of her bower. "What do you know of us or what will break our hearts? You don't know anything- you are a cruel stupid idiot!" Yet her words had brought tears to Èowyns's eyes. After gaining her composure, she had gone and told her brother. Èomer had scorned Heilda's words. 'Don't go believing her Èowyn,' he had laughed. 'Everyone knows father's too strong to get himself killed.'  
  
Despite her brother's calm, the words haunted Èowyn and sleep would not come. Suppose father really was dead? In the bed beside her own, Èomer slept soundly. She sighed. Would she be awake all night? Suddenly, her sharp ears picked up the sound of hooves on cobblestone. Father must have returned after all! She leapt on to her brother. "Èomer! Èomer!" she cried. "Father's come back!"  
  
Joyfully, the children dashed ot the front door. Théodwyn was standing there, talking to a man out in the storm. "Where is he Théodred?" she demanded. "Where is my husband?"  
  
"Théodwyn, I- I am truly sorry," faltered Théodred. "We- we were attacked and..."  
  
"No!" wailed Théodwyn, realising her worst dreams had come true and her husband was dead. She pushed past her nephew and fell to her knees by the pallet on which Èomund had been borne home on. She clutched at his cold hands and kissed his fair, dead face. "Èomund, Èomund, please wake up!" she begged. "Do not leave me alone!"  
  
"He will not awake," Théodred said firmly, placing a calming hand on his aunt's shaking shoulder. "Do not weep for him. He was a soldier. He knew he would die. You must carry on. You have the children to care for."  
  
"I shall care for them for a short time," Théodwyn said dully. "Yet I will die now. Without him my life is meaningless."  
  
Èomer and Èowyn clung to each other desperately, weeping for their loss. "Father, father," whispered Èowyn, almost soundlessly until she fell into a restless sleep. Soberly, Théodred carried her up to her bed, a weary and grieved Èomer following in his wake. Théodwyn remained outside, weeping by her husband's side.  
  
~*~  
  
It was only a few short weeks before Théodwyn collapsed. In her days of mourning, she slept little and ate less. Théodred remained in her home, sending the Rohirrim home with a message explaining what had occured to his father, King Théoden.  
  
The fateful day, could have been the day that Théodwyn put her grieved life back into motion. She rose early and dressed. Knowing she had neglected her children, she prepared to visit them. Half way to the nursery though, her world spun crazily. To the exclaimations of nearby servants, she fell to the ground. They bore her back to her rooms and summoned Théodred. He took one quick searching look at his aunt and bitterly realized she was quickly letting go of life. "Bring her children to her," ordered Théodred. "They should have a chance to say goodbye."  
  
The maid left, wiping tears away and Théodred was left alone with Théodwyn. "Théodered," she called hoarsely.   
  
"Yes?" he questioned, going to her bedside. "Is anything wrong?"  
  
"I am dying, am I not?" she said drily. "I would suspect one would consider that wrong. But, it is the children, Théodred, the children. I have failed as a mother."  
  
"No Théodwyn," argued Théodred. "You were a very good mother to the children. They could not ask for better."  
  
"I am abandoning them here, without a father or mother," she wept. "What mother does that to her enfants? They are so very young."  
  
"Éomer and Éowyn will be taken care of," Théodred promised. "They will return with me to Edoras. They will not be put out on the street."  
  
"Thank you," said Théodwyn softly. She closed her eyes and if not for the small movement of her chest, Théodred would have thought she had already passed on.  
  
Èowyn and Èomer were roused and brought to their mother. "Mama?" frowned Èomer. "What is happening?"  
  
"I am going away my dears," Théodwyn replied weakly.  
  
"I don't want you to go mama," Èowyn cried through her tears, not fully comprehending, but knowing something horrible was going to happen.  
  
"Oh my precious child," smiled Théodwyn sadly. "I'll never truly go away. Everytime the sun rises I'll be standing right beside you and I will always be in your hearts. Now go to Edoras and live with your uncle Théoden. Always be good children and no matter how dark the sky is, keep your hopes and follow your hearts."  
  
And with these last wise words, Théodwyn passed out of life.  
  
~*~  
  
A few days later, the household emptied, all garbed in black, bearing the bodies of their master and mistress. Èowyn and Èomer rode together in silence on a white pony beside their cousin at the head of the column. "Where are we going?" Èowyn asked, after almost three hours of riding in silence.  
  
"Look!" Théodred cried, momentarily freed of his grief at the sight of his home. They were drawing near to Edoras.  
  
The city of Edoras was built upon a large hill and above the city, the crown of the hill was Meduseld, the Golden Hall. Normally, the flags would have flapped merily in the high winds that were a part of daily life in Edoras. But today the flags flew at halfmast, mourning the death of the King's kin.   
  
"Welcome my dear cousins!" cried Théodred with a gleam in his eyes. "Welcome to Edoras!"  
  
  
Author's End Note: Sheesh, what is it with the Rohirrim having similar names in the family. I mean there is Théodwyn, Théodred and Théoden and then Éomund, Éowyn and Éomer! Ai! It is a writer's bane. Okay, I'm finished now. I hope you enjoyed my story! Please read and review!  
~Elbereth94 


	2. Battlerage

Chapter 2- Battlerage  
  
The year after their parents' deaths passed surprizingly quickly for Èowyn and Èomer. They quickly settled into their daily routines, helped by their jovial uncle, King Théoden and their beloved cousin, Théodred. The children had known Théodred since the day they were born and he had proved to be a very able playmate. They had only crossed paths with this uncle several times, but within two weeks he had won their hearts by proving to be quite accepting of the rowdiness required in any good game of hide-and-go-seek games.  
  
A few days after Èowyn's eighth nameday proved to dawn as normal, though it would prove to be anything but normal. The children awoke simutaneously. After their morning pillow fight, in which Èomer defeated his sister, they washed their hands and faces and dressed. They quickly attended to their simple chores before skipping off, hand in hand to visit their cousin and uncle. By ten in the morning, the Golden Hall could have been easily likened to a meangirie. Èowyn was the hider and had chosen her ample place. However, at '62', she was positive she saw her twelve year-old brother peeking. "Cheater! Cheater!" she hollered. "You filthy little cheat!"  
  
"I am no such thing!" protested Èomer, indigant that his little sister should catch him at breaking the rules.   
  
"A liar and a filthy cheat!" roared Èowyn, charging her brother. Èomer shouted out a profanity that caused the King to start.  
  
"Èomer," he said sternly. "That is no way for a gentleman to speak to a gentlelady."  
  
"Èowyn ain't no gentlelady!" protested Èomer. "She is a-" But the nobles were never to discover what Èowyn was, for at that moment Èowyn bull-dozered her far larger brother to the ground and they began to scuffle furiously, fists flailing. Size was no advantage to Èomer, for Èowyn's ferocity made up for it. Théoden headed to the rabble, but Théodred and his friend Marshall Elfhelm, reached them first. "Shame on you!" Théodred scolden, not ungently. "Fighting a lady!"  
  
"She knocked me over first!" Èomer pouted, hanging from Théodred's fist. "What was I supposed to do, run away?"  
  
"Yes," replied Théoden sharply. "One of the Rohirrim should never fight a woman- attacked or no. That, combined with your language, proved to be very ill behavior. I should very much like to know who taught that profantiy to you!" Here he shot a suspicious glance at Elfhelm- well known to be the posessor of an ill tongue. The Marshall was saved from answering as he struggled with the 'gentlelady.'  
  
"Èowyn, you are not behaving like a lady," Théoden said sternly.  
  
"That is good!" retorted Èowyn. "I do not want to be a lady. Boys have ever so much more fun!"  
  
Aghast, Théoden stared at his bold niece. She continued to struggle. At that moment, the cook of the hall, justly nicknamed 'Cook', entered the Golden Hall. "You summoned me, my lord?"  
  
"I did," nodded Théoden. He turned to his niece and nephew. "Children, today you shall begin training for your future positions in life. Èomer, Théodred has agreed to teach you how to ride and fight, whilst Èowyn shall be taught by Cook on how to attend to a home."  
  
Èowyn eyed Cook sulkily, still dangling by her collar. Cook was a stout woman with glossy white hair, cold blue eyes and an unsmiling face. She wielded her wooden spoon like a club, setting fear into the hearts of those beneath her. "I do not want to," Èowyn pouted. "She is very horrible and I do not like her at all. I will go with Èomer and Théodred please. A sword is more useful than a spoon."  
  
Cook stalked over to Èowyn. Elfhelm set her on the ground, eager to see how the fiesty child would fair against the, in his opinion, beastly woman. "I will soon teach you how to respect your King!" declared Cook. "Be it with work, spoon or the back of my hand."  
  
"If you do I shall whip you around your filthy kitchen with your own spoon, you old broad!" snarled Èowyn.  
  
"Why you insolent-" gasped Cook, preparing to strike Èowyn. There was a flash of steel and Elfhelm's sword was at Cook's throat, the hilt in Èowyn's steady hands.   
  
"Why don't you try?" challenged Èowyn. For a moment, she seemed to tower over Cook, tall, fair, noble and proud. Stern was her face and fiery were her eyes. She seemed to glow a brilliant white and all the court was entralled by her.  
  
"Èowyn!" shouted Théoden, not knowing what had befallen his niece, but mistrusting the figure who stood there, a fey look in her eyes, ready to slaughter any who dared oppose her. "You will drop your sword!"  
  
For a moment, Èowyn turned her burning eyes on the King. Then she gasped and the sword fell from nerveless hands. The goddess of war vanished and once more she was a simple eight year-old, shaking violently. She swayed and fell backward, but Elfhelm was swift enough to catch her.  
  
"Èowyn!" gasped Eomer, flying to his sister's side. "Oh Èowyn, I am sorry I fought you! Please don't you leave me too. Not you too!"  
  
"Do not fear, young lord," soothed Elfhelm. "Your sister will be fine, she is just weary. Go off and play with the village boys, we will call you when she awakes."  
  
Èomer trudged off, shooting many worried glances back at his poor sister. "I will not train this fey child!" announced Cook, near hysterics. "She is a demon and my death is in her eyes! You should get rid of her, my lord, if I may be so bold."  
  
"No one will force you to train Èowyn," Théoden assured Cook. "Yet, you have been too forward. Èowyn is my niece and I love her as a daughter. No matter how fey, I will not 'get rid of her.' I suggest that you do not speak of this, or your job will be forfiet. Go now, take the day off."  
  
"Of course, my lord," curtsied the Cook. "Thank you, my lord." She quickly departed.  
  
"Come my good man, son," Théoden motioned to Théodred and Elfhelm. "We must take her to her bower."  
  
When Èowyn had been changed and tucked in tight, King, Prince and Marshall stood watching her momentarily. "Well gentlemen," Théoden said finally. "What did you think of that?"  
  
"If I did not know better, I would say Èowyn was taken by battlerage," Théodred said increduously.  
  
"Battlerage?" repeated Elfhelm, eyes wide. "At her age?"  
  
Battlerage. A dangerous disease, that if not treated properly, could prove fatal. It made the diseased unable to stop fighting, unwittingly and carelessly killing friend and foe alike. Those taken by battlerage had an uncanny knack of being very talent at weaponry even without the rage. Yet usually it came to seasoned troopers, not small children or even youth. A woman, let alone a girl, with battlerage was unthinkable. Théoden brushed his niece's hair off her face, tears in his eyes. Perhaps if the alliances between men and elves still held strong, Èowyn's malady would be naught to worry about. Yet without the elves, she was surely doomed.  
  
For in Rohan and Gondor, there was no cure for battlerage. What would become of his sister-daughter? In the end would she be fair or fey... or worse, both?  
  
~*~  
  
Èowyn sat up in bed when Théodred entered her bedroom. "Good morning little one," he smiled, setting her breakfast tray down. "How do ye fare?"  
  
"Horribly!" announced Èowyn. Seeing the look of concern on her cousin's face, she continued. "Oh I feel fine enough. I am just very very bored! Can I get up today... please?" She looked up at her cousin with pleading eyes.  
  
"As it just so happens, my father has agreed you can get up today," announced Théodred. "But, only if you promise to go to your cooking lessons and not beat anyone with a spoon."  
  
"Hurrah!" cried Èowyn, leaping up. Three days in bed was a sore trail for the young girl. "And I promise to do as you say."  
  
"Very well," smiled Théodred. "Then get yourself up and change. Unless you intend to cook in your nightclothes. How would you like if I put you to bed tonight?"  
  
"I would like it very much," Èowyn replied solemnly.  
  
"Then I will see you then," Théodred promised. "If not before." He tapped her nose lightly, envoking a laugh.  
  
He opened the door. "Oh, Théodred, wait!" called Èowyn. Her cousin turned to her. "Will you teach me how to use a sword, on the sly?"  
  
Théodred blanked. "No," he said firmly. "No, I will not. Do not speak of it again."  
  
"But Théodred," whined Èowyn.  
  
"No Èowyn!" shouted Théodred. "Do you hear me? I suggest you lose any thoughts of being a shieldmaiden, because it will not happen. Goodbye."  
  
Théodred closed the door firmly behind him, closing in a hurt child. He tried to block the grey eyes and their betrayal out of his mind. This was how it had to be, whether it hurt Èowyn or no. At least this way would not kill her.  
  
~*~  
  
"Be careful Èowyn," cautioned the young maid who was supervising her. Thelma was a fair girl, only thirteen. Her hair was a dirty blonde and her large green eyes followed Cook around in fear. "You do not want to cut you pretty little hands." Èowyn carefully sliced the large knife through the raw meat. She didn't mind cutting her fingers, but she did mind cutting her fingers off! She quickly got the hang of chopping things up. The knife felt as though it belonged in her little hands. It she were attacked right now, she would die fighting, which was satisfactory.  
  
"Thelma!" roared Cook, storming across the large kitchen. She stopped in front of the two, bristling. She shot a fearful look at Èowyn, who stood on her stool, a confused look in her large grey eyes. The Cook turned to glower at Thelma. "I specifically told you not to let the child touch anything that could be used as a weapon!"  
  
"How can she cook if she cannot touch a knife?" demanded Thelma.  
  
"Silence!" bellowed Cook. "I shall have none of your insolence!" She rounded on Èowyn. "As for you- ai!" Èowyn was holding up a large salad fork. Théodred had said no spoons, but he had not mentioned any other utensils. Èowyn mustered all the strength in her little body and flayed the large woman across the stomach. She grinned rather malicioulsy at the satisfying crunch.  
  
~*~  
  
"Never in my wildest dreams did I think!" Théoden roared, angry eyes glowering at his niece, who was now very sorry she had hit the Cook. "Èowyn- why?"  
  
"She was yelling at Thelma," replied Èowyn sulkily. "She had no right!"  
  
"You had no right to do harm to our cook," Théodred remarked. He was calmer than the King, but Èowyn knew he was still frightfully angry. "I told you not to beat anyone with a spoon. You deliberately disobeyed me!"  
  
"I did not!" snapped Èowyn. "It was a fork, and you never said anything about forks!" Théodred smoldered silently. It was undeniable she had not disobeyed in that aspect. "Why do I have to be a house tender?" demanded Èowyn. "Both mama and papa said I could be whatever I want and I want to be a Shieldmaiden!"  
  
"You are not going to be a shieldmaiden," Théoden declared, finality in his tone. "Your parents have passed on and your upbringing lies in my hands now. I will not have a shieldmaiden for a niece. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
Èowyn stared at him for a moment, in shock. Then she burst into tears and fled from the Golden Hall. Elfhelm made as though to go after her, but Théoden stayed him. "Let her go," he ordered. "If we must be harsh to save her, than so be it. Do not heal the wound until it has fulfilled its purposes."  
  
~*~  
  
Èowyn dashed to her room, crying the entire way. She yanked open the door and cast herself on to her bed, crying shamelessly. How could her beloved uncle say such horrible things to her? It was unfair! She scrubbed her face, will hardening. A noise from the adjoining room alerted her of her brother's presence. She rapped lightly on the closed door. "Come in!" called Èomer cheerfully, blissfully unaware of his sister's misery.  
  
Èowyn opened the door. It was in this room that they kept their chamber pot, as well as a bowl for washing, a mirrior at their level and a copper tub. Èomer was standing in front of the mirrior, soap smeered all over his face and a gleaming razor in his hand.  
  
"Èomer!" she gasped. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Shaving," he replied. "What else, silly?"  
  
"Where did you get that?" Èowyn inquired, pointing at the razor.  
  
"Théodred's room," answered Èomer, peering in the mirrior again.  
  
Suddenly an idea came to Èowyn's head. What if she...? Smiling, she continued. "Théodred's gonna be really angry with you!"  
  
Èomer spun around, grabbing his sister by the arm. "Not if you do not tell him!" he snarled.   
  
Èowyn angrily stomped down on his foot. He cried out in pain and let go. She fled, crying out her cousin's name.  
  
~*~  
  
"Èomer!" hollered Théodred. "What have you done to my razor?"  
  
"Eh..." Èomer fumbled, shooting death glares at his sister, who looked all too smug.   
  
"You are coming with me boy," frowed Théodred. "Honestly! The two of you would annoy a whole party of Orcs to death!" He grabbed Èomer's hand and stalked out.  
  
"Snitch," muttered Èomer, before he was yanked out the door.  
  
Èowyn watched them go for only a few moments. She quickly ran to her wardrobe and threw out a sack. With Èomer angry at her, no one would notice her gone until at least nightfall. She tossed some clothes and blankets into the sack, as well as the lunch that the servants had ony brought a few moments ago. She also stuffed in the food they had 'borrowed' from the kitchen for late night snacks or treats for any stray animals they might find.  
  
Èowyn closed the sack and shouldered it. She stealthily made her way to the Golden Hall's stables. It was lunch time, so all of the stable hands were out. Her beloved pony, Brytta, was happily munching on oats in his stall, plump from much rest and little toil. "Come on Brytta,' she coaxed. "We are going for a ride." She expertly saddled him up and mounted. Shieldmaidens might be frowned upon, but in Rohan, the young and old, male and female, all knew how to ride. Èowyn put some oats into the saddlebags.  
  
"Yah!" she cried. Brytta leapt into his waddle that was his version of a canter. Éowyn kept Brytta to the backroads; dark alleyways that none went upon save beggars and children during their games. When she reached the city gates, she waited until a party of villagers, setting out for home after a morning in the city left. She lead Brytta into the end of their party and kept her face down when she passed the guards, so as not to be noticed. As soon as they were on the plains, she veered away from the group and went in the opposite direction. After about one hour, Èowyn turned around. Edoras was very small in the distance. So this was it. She was actually running away from home. But where to go?  
  
She had visited Minas Tirith once or twice and had greatly enjoyed the company of Théodred's friend, Boromir. Yet, Boromir would likely send her home, if he did not bring her himself. No, east was not the way. To the south were the White Mountains, and she could not hope to cross them. To the north was Fangorn Forest. She shuddered. She had heard dark tales of that land. So that meant west- to the Fortress of Helm's Deep and beyond. It was as good a way as any. With a shrug, she kicked Brytta into his rather pathetic excuse for a gallop. 


	3. Little One

Come with me, close you eyes  
  
Hold my hand, it'll be all right  
  
Don't be scared, don't be shy  
  
Lift your head, it'll be all right.  
Chapter 3- Little One  
  
Éomer yawned and lazily stretched. He blinked several time to clear his sleep-filled eyes. In the bed beside his, Éowyn was still asleep, bundled up under her covers in almost the same position as the night before. It must have gotten colder during the night, not even the top of her blonde head showed, so deeply nestled was she. He leapt out of bed, dressing quietly so as not to wake his sister. She had had quite a tough week. He smiled warmly, casting his bright eyes on his beloved sister. No matter how he teased her, sometimes edging more towards taunting, she would always be the most important person in the world to him.  
  
He sat down on the edge of her bed. He did hate to end her slumber, but she would be late for her lessons. He shook her gently, but she did not stir. "Éowyn!" he hissed. "Éowyn! Its time to get up!" Still nothing. "Éowyn!" he called.  
  
Frustrated, he tore off her blankets.  
  
~*~  
  
Within minutes, Meduseld and all of Edoras had broken into mass panic. Men of the city rode out looking for Éowyn, while women prayed to the Valar and the children searched every nook and cranny in Edoras. The city rang with the desperate cries of 'Éowyn!'   
  
Meanwhile, in the Golden Hall, Théoden sat solemnly in his throne, waited on by Théodred and Elfhelm. Éomer sat curled up at his uncle's feet, weeping, Théoden looked carved from stone, Théodred's angst played freely on his face and Elfhelm was staring out the window listlessly. All four were waiting.  
  
The doors to the hall opened to admit a young Rider and Éowyn's nanny, Mira. Although Éowyn was rarely in Mira's keeping, they still shared a strong bond. Mira's blue eyes were red and puffy from weeping. The young Rider, unknown to Théoden, wore a very grave face. Théoden knew they brought no good news and more probably ill. "What news have you?" inquired Théoden, voice tired and sad.  
  
"No trace of our little shieldmaiden has been found," admitted the Rider. "But her pony, Brytta, has been taken from the stables. There is hope he will bear her to a nearby village. Messangers will be sent out, of course."  
  
'Little shieldmaiden," Théoden thought, clearly bemused. 'And that, our very problem, is what our people have christened her. Oh the irony of our world.'  
  
"Do as you think best," nodded Théoden "But find our- our little shieldmaiden." Not even Éomer could miss the bitterness in his voice.  
  
"You summoned me, my lord?" inquired Mira.  
  
"Aye," nodded Théoden. "Take Éomer to his chambers and amuse him."  
  
"No!" protested Éomer. "I want to stay here and wait for Éowyn." Tears dripped unstopped down his face.  
  
"No lad," soothed Théoden, ruffling his hair. "You go with Mira. As soon as there is news, we will send for you."  
  
Too weak from grieft to argue, Éomer allowed Mira to lead him away, followed by the Rider.  
  
"Did you hear what he called her?" Théoden asked dully. "'Little Shieldmaiden.' All this time we have been trying to prevent it, but we stood no chance. For she is what she is and now look where my stupidity has brought us!"  
  
"Stupidity?" repeated Elfhelm midly. "Forgive me, my lord, but is it stupidity to protect a cherished one from something that could do them grave harm?"  
  
"Nay," agreed Théoden. "But at least-" He fell silent, realizing there was nothing to say. "This is my doing. I was her keeper!"  
  
"None or all are to blame," Théodred declared. "Yet, do not trouble yourself. It is a sure thing she will head to Minas Tirith and seek the aid of her beloved friend, Boromir. If we do not catch her on the road, he will keep her in the White City for us. Elfhelm and I will set out this very hour if you wish it."  
  
Slowly Théoden let a faint smile creep across his face. "Ah Théodred," he chuckled, greatily heartened, for Théodred's words were wise. "What would I do without you? If you will, go as soon as you may and bring her back."  
  
"As you command, so shall it be," Théodred and Elfhelm murmured.  
  
"Oh yes!" Théoden suddenly spoke up. "I suppose you had better take Éomer with you. We do not want him sneaking off on his own to find her. Elbereth knows that one missing child is quite enough!"  
  
So, spirits falsely high, Elfhelm, Théodred and Théoden began to plan for Elfhelm, Théodred and Éomer's brief, and surely fruitful trip to the White City.  
  
~*~  
  
Théodred rapped on Éomer's door. "You may enter," granted Mira. Théodred forced himself to smile comfortingly at Éomer, who looked up anxiously when he entered.  
  
"Hello my lord," welcomed Mira, shooting an adoring look at him. Théodred shifted uncomfortably. It was hardly a secret that half his father's maids fancied him. But it did make things difficult- especially when the only woman he had any feelings for was one in his dreams. An elfmaiden who called herself Undòmiel. He shook his head as Éomer tugged anxiously at his hand.  
  
"Have they found my sister?" he demanded.  
  
"No, I am afraid not," Théodred admitted. He turned to Mira, who had yet to take her eyes from him. "You may leave us Mira," he granted.  
  
"Yes my lord," agreed Mira, seeming rather flustered. She deeply curtsied and then fled.  
  
Théodred sat down on Éomer's bed. Éomer clambered up on his lap. "What is happening cousin?" he asked.  
  
"You, Elfhelm and I are riding to Minas Tirith," answered Théodred. "We are going to visit Boromir and hopefully find Éowyn."  
  
"Boromir!" gasped Éomer. "Of course! Éowyn always said she wanted Boromir as a brother. Now that I have failed her, she will go to him!"  
  
"Éomer, you don't think Éowyn ran away because of you?" asked Théodred, shocked.  
  
"Well, why else?" frowned Éomer. "I called her a snitch, remember?"  
  
"Éowyn ran away due to a number of things," Théodred explained. "And I am quite sure your insult was not one of them."  
  
Éomer looked up, his eyes shining with renewed hope. "Truly?" he prodded.  
  
"Truly," laughed Théodred. "Éowyn knows you are a very good brother."  
  
"Then what are we waiting for?" cried Éomer. He leapt off of Théodred's lap and began capering around the room. "We have to go to Minas Tirith!"  
  
"Yes, we do," nodded Théodred. "Quickly pack up and then come to the Golden Hall." He left Éomer to his packing and headed off to do his own."  
  
"She will be in Minas Tirith, she will be in Minas Tirth," he repeated to himself as he folded up shirts into a worn burlap sack.  
  
Yet, when he swung up on his stallion and galloped off to the White City, followed closely by Elfhem and Éomer, hew as thinking of the parties of Orcs skirting the borders of Rohan.  
  
~*~  
  
Éowyn swayed wearily in the saddle. It had been four days since she set out from Edoras and two days since her food had run out. She had slept for perhaps a total of five house in those long days. She no longer had any clue to her whereabouts. Her sleep deprived brain only functioned enough to force her to continue walking. "C'mon Brytta," she coaxed, voice thick. "Only a little more, a little more."  
  
For another hour she forced herself and Brytta to continue walking forward. Slowly, her head began to droop. Only when her head hit the pommel, did Éowyn jolt up. "I almost fell asleep," she told Brytta, hopelessness in her voice. "A real warrior would not have. Maybe we should just go home. But then again, which way is home?" She fell silent, in deep thought. It was then that she heard the roar of the Orcs.  
  
Her head whipped around, eyes wide with fright. A party of Orcs was dashing towards her. There were only twenty in total, but for Éowyn, that was about twenty too many.  
  
"Brytta go!" she shouted, digging her heels into his tired flanks. He saw the Orcs and his eyes rolled wildly with fear. Yet, fearing for his safety, he leapt into his first true gallop. The little shieldmaiden and her valiant steed dashed across the plains. Yet both were weary, and the Orcs swift.  
  
They had almost cleared the Orcs, when a particularly lucky arrow pierced Brytta's rump. He screamed in agony, yet kept going. Another arrow hit his neck, only inches from where Éowyn had laid her hand. Brytta faltered. "Oh Brytta," begged Éowyn through her tears. "Please keep going, please!"  
  
But the little pony had run for the last time. he faltered again, tripped and then fell. Éowyn expertly kicked herself out of the saddle and rolled away, saving herself from being crushed by the dying pony. Éowyn had little time for her pony, before the party of Orcs swept around her. They rattled their bucklers at her and gnashed their awful teeth. "Looks like we found a little one!" grimanced one. "Not much meat on her bones!"  
  
"Don't matter," snarled the leader. "Its still meat!" he stepped forward, towering over Éowyn, eyes glinting eagerly. "Don't worry lass," he growled. "This won't hurt... much!"  
  
Éowyn closed her eyes and prepared for the worse.  
  
~*~  
  
The sun shone brightly overhead as the two riders galloped across the plains of Rohan. One was in the prime of his life, with shoulder length brown hair and bright blue eyes. He was garbed in dark greens and browns and appeared travelworn, but this was no mere Ranger. He was Aragorn, son of Arathorn and heir to the throne of Gondor.  
  
His companion was no less great. His long hair and beard were the same colour as his grey robes. His face was old and wrinkled, but his blue eyes twinkled and belied his ancient age. For ancient he was. Olorin, Mithrandir or Gandalf the Grey, great among the Istari.  
  
Many years lay between them, but also a great friendship. As they rode, they talked lightly together, of the weather or of the doings of their mutual acquaintances. But in both of their minds, a greater shadow lay. Their prey- Gollum. "Something is troubling you, my friend," Gandalf said slowly, after a particularly long silence.  
  
"You know me too well, old friend," Aragorn sighed. "It is the Lady Arwen Undòmiel."  
  
"Do you not mean her father, the Lord Elrond?" Gandalf corrected.  
  
"Aye," agreed Aragorn, rather reluctantly. "Ada has ever been kind to me, yet... his mind is set. Arwen shall not be mine until I am King."  
  
"So take the throne!" Gandalf frowend. "What is stopping you?"  
  
"She has already disobeyed," Aragorn explained woefully. "Undòmiel forsook her immortality for me."  
  
Gandalf did not appear shocked. In fact, he was not. Galadriel of the Golden Wood had seen it and had instantly informed him, thinking it of some importance. He did not offer words of comfort, for truly there were none. Instead he stood in his stirrups and shaded his eyes. "Orcs!" he exclaimed. "And so far into the plains of Rohan! Prepare yourself friend. Twenty against two is not fair odds."  
  
"You shall wield Glamdring and I my own sword," Aragorn said stoutly. "The odds are stacked against them."  
  
"Yah!" they shouted as one. Their horses leapt forward and they thundered towards their new prey. And so Éowyn's hunters became the hunted.  
  
~*~  
  
Éowyn cowered helplessly on the ground as the Orcs closed in on her. As the leader raised his wicked sword up, she passed out from fear, much to her later shame. The Orc prepared to strike, but it would never touch the child. There was the sound of shouts from the outter rim of the circle and then two great brown stallions crashed through the circle. There was a flash of steel and Aragorn felled the leader. There was a brilliant flash of light from Gandalf's staff and more fell dead. Within moments, all twenty Orcs had been slain.  
  
Gandalf trotted around, making sure all were dead. Aragorn leapt from hs horse and dashed towards Éowyn's crumpled form. He carefully lifted her and felt her pulse. "What do you have there?" Gandalf inquired.  
  
"A child," responded Aragorn, slight worry in his tone. "She lives, yet she is weak. Malnutritioned, of late. A child of the Rohirrim, by her hair and complexion. She will need some mild healing, but nothing beyond my capability."  
  
"She will have to come with us," Gandalf decided. "We will rest for tonight. But bear her away from this place. By morn it will reak of death."  
  
Aragorn lifted her gently and bore her to his patiently waiting stallion. He swung her up into the saddle and pulled himself up after her. Her head lolled as they started. "Sh," he soothed, smoothing her blonde hair. "Poor child. I will take care of you." He thought of the she-elf waiting for him in Lothlorien and longing for a family. What child would not enjoy a life among elves, being raised by Arwen Evenstar and Aragorn Estel?  
  
"Do not become too attatched to her Aragorn!" Gandalf warned with a laugh. "We will have to find her family eventually."  
  
"I... I know," Aragorn said slowly. Although it was unlikely they would find her family, in the end she would have to be returned to the Rohirrim. Someone would undoubtably know of her. But somehow, he felt as though he was tied to this child as strongly as he was to Arwen. There was something about her. A side track to Lothlorien would not change their final results in their search for her family. Besides, it would give him time to distinguish exactly why she was fascinating him so. It was not as though he had not seen a child before.The girl whimpered and squirmed. Aragorn took her hand and kissed it gently. He began to sing softly to her in his low, husky voice.  
"Come with me, close your eyes  
  
Hold my hand, it'll be all right.  
  
Don't be scared, don't be shy.  
  
Lift your head, its gonna be all right."  
He kissed the top of her forehead and flicked the reins to catch up with Gandalf.  
  
~*~  
  
After riding for about one hour, Aragorn demanded they go no further. As they began setting up a camp, the sun began to dip below the horizon. By the time the moon had risen, there was a merry fire and the smell of bacon wafting around their camp. Gandalf bent over the fire and swished the meat around in the pan. It bubbled a little and he let it be. He sliced up a large slab of bread and handed half of it to Aragorn.   
  
The child lay only at an arm's reach away from Aragorn, sleeping peacefully. "Will you wake her up?" Gandalf asked, as he dished out the meat.  
  
"No," answered Aragorn, chomping on a slice. "She is more weary than hungry. I will wake her around noon tomorrow."  
  
"Noon!" exclaimed Gandalf. "I cannot afford that much of a delay. I have to speak with Denethor as soon as possible."  
  
"I will not wake her beforehand," Aragorn frowned stubbornly.  
  
"Then I fear this is where we part ways," Gandalf smiled sadly. "I will leave before dawn."  
  
"So be it," Aragorn shrugged. He reached out and traced her cheek. "I will return to Lothlorien. I know someone there who will be eager to take care of this child."  
  
"You mean Arwen then?" questioned Gandalf. Aragorn nodded, not embarassed. "And after that?"  
  
"To Rivendell, of course," Aragorn answered. "I must learn more of the news from the North before I move again."  
  
"Perhaps I will see you there," Gandalf shrugged. "But for now, I go to my blankets. I will be gone before you rise in the morning. Farewell!"  
  
"Goodbye," nodded Aragorn. He crawled over to the child. "Who are you?" he whispered. "Who are you little one?" He bent over and kissed her forehead.  
  
She stirred and cried out in her sleep. "Éomer!" she shouted. "Théodred, help me!"  
  
"Hush," soothed Aragorn. "Aragorn is here, and he will take care of you." Once more he began to sing.  
"I'll try to make the sun shine, brighter for you  
  
I'll will even play the fool, if it makes you smile.  
  
I'll try to make you laugh, if there's a tear in your eye.  
  
After all is said  
  
After all is done  
  
I'd do anything for you.  
  
Come with me, close you eyes  
  
Hold my hand, it'll be all right  
  
Don't be scared, don't be shy  
  
Lift your head, it'll be all right. 


	4. Dashed Hopes

~*~  
Come with me, close you eyes  
  
Hold my hand, it'll be all right  
  
Don't be scared, don't be shy  
  
Lift your head, it'll be all right.  
  
~*~  
  
Chapter 4- Dashed Hopes  
  
Éowyn was awake, but she did not open her eyes. If she stayed still enough, Théodred or Éomer would come and wake her. Her ears pricked up as someone knelt by her. A large hand grasped her far smaller one. "Little one," whispered a voice she didn't know. "Little one, wake up."  
  
Confused, she opened her eyes and was instantly blinded by the noon sun. The dark shadow of a man moved in between her and the sun and after a few blinks she could make out her surroundings. A man she did not know was looking down at her. He was very tall with blue eyes that were filled with worry. "Good morning," he smiled. "I have been very worried about you."  
  
Éowyn struggled to sit up. He placed a hand on her back and helped her. She gasped at her odd surroundings and then everything came rushing back to her. "Oh dear," she whispered to herself. "I think I have made a mistake."  
  
"And why is that?" asked the man.  
  
Éowyn studied him. He wore a sword and she reckoned he could use it- probably teach her how to use one as well. For a while, traveling with him could be exciting, and excitement was exactly what she was looking for. "Oh, no reason," she answered lamely. "Who are you?"  
  
He smiled a little. "My name is Aragorn," he replied. "My friend and I found you, about to be seriously harmed by Orcs. We rescued you and I healed you."  
  
Éowyn looked around, expecting to see his friend appear. "Oh, he is no longer here," explained Aragorn. "He continued on this morning whilst I remained behind."  
  
"Oh, I am sorry if I've been a burden to you," Éowyn apologized, suddenly realizing Aragorn might not want a tagalong.  
  
"It was nothing," Aragor assured her. "And between you and me, you are far more fair a thing to look upon!"  
  
Éowyn giggled a little. "And now nameless one," smiled Aragorn. "I expect you are quite hungry right about now!"  
  
"Oh, I am sorry," gasped Éowyn. "I'm Éowyn. And yes, I am hungry."  
  
"Then come and eat," suggested Aragorn. They sat down around the fire. Aragorn dished out some stew from a simmering pan and handed a bowlful to Éowyn. He served himself and then settled down across from her. She eagerly stuffed the warm meal into her mouth- her first food in almost three days.  
  
Aragorn ate a little in silence, all the while watching Éowyn closely. After she was done, she hugged her legs to her body, rocked back and forth and let her eyes wander around. Aragorn put his emptied bowl down and looked at Éowyn over steepled fingers. "Well Éowyn, I answered your questions, so I was hoping you will answer mine."  
  
"I will try," Éowyn said slowly.  
  
"What is a child of the Rohirrim doing so far away from home?" Aragorn inquired. "Did anyone try to hurt you?"  
  
"No one tried to hurt me in body," admitted Éowyn. "But my family says I have to learn how to tend the house and cook. They will not allow me to do as I wish and yell at me for no reason!"  
  
"No reason?" frowned Aragorn, beginning to realize Éowyn was in no trouble. She was merely suffering from damaged pride.  
  
"Well, I did hit Cook with a wooden fork," admitted Éowyn. "But only to prove I could fight."  
  
"What is wrong with a life of cooking and housekeeping?" inquired Aragorn.  
  
"Nothing if you enjoy it, I suppose," answered Éowyn reasonably. "But would you give up your life now to keep a house?"  
  
"No, I doubt I would," admitted Aragorn truthfully.  
  
"Well, I wish I had your life," Éowyn sighed wistfully. "Free to go where I would, killing any or all who dared to oppose me."  
  
"My life is not like that at all," smiled Aragorn ruefully. "I have restrictions, just like yours, perhaps heavier." He looked to the East. "Far heavier."  
  
For a moment, Éowyn was startled by the noble look that suddenly flitted across his face and she felt small and worthless. She looked to the east as well, but saw nothing to inspire such greatness. She was still searching when Aragorn spoke again. "Well, Éowyn," he smiled. "What am I to do with you? I had assumed you were an orphan and had decided to take you to Lothlorien, but now I find you have a family. Tell me where they live and I shall accompany you to them. I expect they are very worried about you!"  
  
Éowyn remained silent. "Éowyn?" he frowned.  
  
"I- I do not want to go back!" she blurted out. "Please let me stay with you!" She looked at him, tears shining in her eyes.  
  
He frowned uneasily. He admitted, he still wanted to take Éowyn to Lothlorien, yet she had family and belonged with them as they sounded respectable enough. Still, he owed them nothing and perhaps her absence would convince them to allow her to train as she would. As soon as she wished to return, he could escort her home.  
  
"Very well," he agreed. "You will come with me."  
  
"Thank you!" grinned Éowyn. "Could I ask one more question?"  
  
"You obviously already did," teased Aragorn. "But yes, ask away."  
  
"Could I assume you know how to use that sword?"  
  
Aragorn smiled, thinking of all the blood his sword had seen. "Yes Éowyn," he nodded. "I suspect you could assume that."  
  
~*~  
  
That night, Aragorn tucked Éowyn into her blankets. "Good night, Éowyn," he smiled.  
  
"Good night, Aragorn," yawned Éowyn. Despite her yawns, when Aragorn headed for his blanket almost one hour later, she was still wide awake.  
  
"Why do you not sleep, Éowyn?" frowned Aragorn, sitting down my her. "We have a long journey tomorrow."  
  
"I know," sighed Éowyn. "It is just- well, whenever Théodred sends me to bed at home, he tells me a story."  
  
"Would you like me to tell you a story?" Aragorn asked with a smile.  
  
"Yes please," chirped Éowyn.  
  
"Very well," agreed Aragorn. "I will tell you one of my favorites."  
  
"Once, not so long ago, there lived an orphan human boy, raised by elves. One day while he was wandering in the woods where he lived, he met his foster father's daughter. He had not met her before as she had tarried long in the lands of her mother. Their eyes met and they fell in love. But their love was doomed."  
  
"For he was a mortal and she possessed the immortality of the elves. Yet, they were young and naïve and believed true love could conquer all. The she-elf even planned to forsake her immortality for the man. But when the elf's father heard of her plan, he called the man to him and said that until he had reclaimed his family's throne, the elf would never be his wife. Greatly anguished, the man went into the Wild, only visiting his love occasionally in the Golden Wood. But they both continued to hope for the day when the man will claim the throne and they are free to become man and wife."   
  
Aragorn fell silent. Éowyn glanced up and saw his eyes were filled with pain. She did not wish to disturb him, but was eager to discover the story's end. "Did he ever reclaim the throne?" she asked timidly.  
  
Aragorn looked at her, momentarily confused as though he did not know her. Finally he sighed and smiled sadly. "I do not know," he admitted. "But when I discover it, I promise to inform you."  
  
"Well, I suppose that will have to do," Éowyn frowned. "It was not a very good story, was it? It was terribly sad!"  
  
"Life is not always happy, Éowyn," Aragorn said gently.  
  
"I know," nodded Éowyn. "But wouldn't it be nice if it was?"  
  
"Go to sleep Éowyn," Aragorn ordered mildly, ignoring her question. "We will talk of an ever-blissful world tomorrow."  
  
"Fine," sighed Éowyn, a little put out. But she obediently lay down and closed her eyes. Soon her breathing slowed and Aragorn knew she had slipped into sleep.  
  
He loomed over her. She looked so innocent and venerable lying there. He would have to take very good care of her. He light kissed her brow and then brought his bedroll over right next to hers. He quickly fell asleep.  
  
Around midnight, an evil dream plagued Aragorn, one which hinted darkly at a future without Arwen but with another, unknown White Lady. Protectively, he swung an arm over Éowyn, making sure no harm came to his little one.  
  
~*~  
  
Early the next morning, Aragorn and Éowyn galloped off towards Lothlorien on the back of Aragorn's brown stallion. Meanwhile, Théodred, Éomer and Elfhelm rode to Minas Tirith. Every stride of their horses' hooves took them further away from Éowyn.  
  
On the afternoon of their fourth day from Edoras, they arrived at Minas Tirith. An old guard called down to them. "Oy! Who goes there?"  
  
"Prince Théodred of Edoras," replied Théodred calmly. "And with him the little Lord Éomer and Marshall Elfhelm."  
  
"Good day to you, prince," greeted the guard, as the gates began to swing open. "Word will be sent to the Lord Boromir. I do not believe he was expecting you!"  
  
Théodred frowned. If Éowyn was here, surely Boromir would be expecting someone to come and fetch her. But, if she were not here, then where was she?  
  
~*~  
  
Théodred looked up expectantly when the doors to Boromir's personal parlour opened. After arriving at Boromir's newest home, they had been brought here and told to wait. That had been almost a full hour ago. Boromir strode into the room and offered his friend a smile. Boromir was a very tall man in perfect physical condition. He was a handsome man and it was whispered in secluded places that in Boromir, the Kings of Old had come again. Théodred was sure that there were some who would damn the line of Isildur and put Boromir on the throne.  
  
"Théodred!" Boromir cried, embracing his friend. "What a surprize!" Théodred managed a smile. He and Théodred had been born mere days apart. If Théodred had a dearest friend, than Boromir was surely it.  
  
"And hello to you, Lord Éomer," greeted Boromir. Théodred smiled. Boromir always treated Éomer and Éowyn as though they were fully grown, one of the main reasons they loved him so. "It has been a while since you and Lady Éowyn visited Minas Tirith. You have been sorely missed!"  
  
"Where is my sister?" demanded Éomer, not about to waste time with foolish greetings.  
  
"What?" frowned Boromir, his face going blank.  
  
"Éowyn" said Éomer slowly, as though explaining something to a simpleton. "She left Edoras to come here- now where is she?"  
  
Boromir turned to face Théodred and Elfhelm. "What is he talking about?" frowned Boromir, worry in his eyes.  
  
"Éowyn has run away from home, my lord," replied Elfhelm. "We had hoped she would be here."  
  
"I am sorry," apologized Boromir. "But none in Gondor have seen Éowyn since Midsummer's Eve last year."  
  
Théodred closed his eyes, feeling hope leave him.  
  
~*~  
  
"How is Faramir?" asked Théodred, absently. He was sitting in Boromir's private sitting room, talking to the young Steward to be.  
  
"He was at dinner," Boromir remined Théodred, taking a shallow sip of his mulled wine.  
  
"Right," muttered Théodred, drowning his cup in one gulp. He reached for the pitcher, but Boromir grabbed his hand.  
  
"Drinking yourself into oblivion will not help to find Éowyn," he said lightly.  
  
"I know," sighed Théodred heavily. "But, what am I to do? Tell Éomer there is no hope of his sister being alive?"  
  
"There is still hope," Boromir argued weakily.  
  
Théodred let out a bitter laugh. "Of course there is hope," he growled. "What child could not survive on the Orc-ridden plains alone and poorly provisioned?" Boromir said nothing. Théodred sighed again. "I am glad you have hope, friend, but for me, hope has faded away." He stood up. "I am going to bed."  
  
"Good night," Boromir offered, rather timidly.  
  
"Oh, I am sure I will sleep soundly," Théodred replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. He left for his temporary chambers.  
  
Boromir stood and drained his own glass. He crossed to the window and threw open the shutters. Outside the stars gleamed brightly, unaware that anything was amiss. "Please Tulkas," he murmured. "Please let her be all right. I fear the ruin of the Rohirrim if she should be dead."  
  
~*~  
  
Théodred slowly opened his eyes and immediately recognized his surroundings. He was in a gazebo. In the background there were mountains, woods and a waterfall. Nestled amongst it all was a fair and ancient house. All arould him sounded strange unearthly music. It made his heart ache. He did not know the name of this place, but he had been here before in previous dreams.  
  
She was here.  
  
She turned to face him and, as always, she took his breath away. Her long black hair fell down to her waist in soft waves, her blue eyes were clear and slightly slanted and she possessed the elvish beauty. She was garbed in a simple green gown with flowing skirts, a gold girt and large bell sleeves. "Undòmiel," he breathed.  
  
"Why do you continue to bring me here?" she demanded, her fair face contorted in anger that did nothing to mar her beauty. "I have no feelings for you! Let me live my life." She turned to go, but he caught her wrist. "Unhand me!" she ordered. "When Estel hears of this-"  
  
"Just hear me out!" he begged. "I do not bring you here. Someone continually brings me here."  
  
She studied him for a moment. "Who are you?" she asked slowly.  
  
"Théodred, son of Théoden, son of Thengel," answered Théodred.  
  
Undòmiel's eyes widened alarmingly. "Your name declares the coming of my doom!"  
  
There was a flash of light and Théodred brought his hand up to protect his eyes from the bright light. He lowered it a bit to see his surroundings and realized he was being whipped at by a fierce wind. Undòmiel was standing in front of him, over the grave of someone who had obviously been very important. He realized they were in the Houses of the Dead in Minas Tirith. Undòmiel was garbed in black and was weeping. She did not seem to notice the wind, though it blew her mourning clothes back.  
  
Then he was jolting up in his own bed, panting heavily.  
  
~*~  
  
Aragorn hadn't thought to put his sword out of her reach. He had only turned for a moment to light a fire. "Turn around and face me as a man should!" Éowyn's voice ordered. Only, it was not like her voice. It seemed older and more proud.  
  
He spun to find Éowyn standing tall, his sword held in her hand. She seemed older and taller, not to mention fairer and colder. He stared, aghast. For in her he saw the White Lady of his dreams. "What foul magic is this?" he whispered, shocked.  
  
"Who are you?" demanded Éowyn, eyes smoldering.  
  
"I am Aragorn," replied Aragorn, stalling for time.  
  
"Aragorn," murmured the woman. "I feel as though I know you. Are you a trick of Sauron's, sent here to lure me into danger?"  
  
"Nay lady," he disagreed. "I have no hard feelings for you- quite the opposite in fact."  
  
"I- I," Éowyn stuttered. Her sword dropped a little. Aragorn leapt into action. He kneed the shieldmaiden in the stomach, only hard enough to make her react. Whilst she was at unawares, he wrenched the sword from her hands. He pointed it at her, but he needn't have bothered. The moment the sword left her hands, Éowyn had shrunk back to her normal self, shaking on the ground.  
  
"Oh little one," sighed Aragorn heavily. He sheathed his sword and knelt down by her. He gathered her in his arms and gently rocked her back and forth.  
  
'We must reach Lothlorien soon,' he thought urgently. 'Lady Galadriel will know what to do.'  
  
~*~*~*~ 


	5. The Lady and The Wood

Come with me, close you eyes  
  
Hold my hand, it'll be all right  
  
Don't be scared, don't be shy  
  
Lift your head, it'll be all right.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 5- The Lady and the Wood  
  
Arwen climbed to the top of Cerin Amroth. Of all the places in Lothlorien, the hill where she had pledged her love to Estel was her most beloved. The sun had just risen and the elves and songs of Lothlorien were just beginning to rise with it. She had halted her climb and closed her eyes, letting the gentle wind ruffle her hair and clothes. She was very worried.  
  
The dreams of Rivendell and the strange human male had only been slightly troublesome since they began in the winter. Last night, however, he, Théodred had shook the very foundations of her world. It had only been a few nights since she had ventured to her Grandmother's Mirror.  
  
~*~FLASHBACK~*~  
  
"Why have you brought me here?" Arwen asked, frowning at the Lady Galadriel.  
  
"There is something you must see," Galadriel explained. "Look into the mirror."  
  
Obediently, Arwen stepped up to the mirror and looked in. The veil drew away and she was looking at a single star; the Evenstar.  
  
Next was a vision of her and Aragorn standing on a bridge in Rivendell. There was a quick glance of her father, stern and angry. Then there was a short scene, played out before her.  
  
Aragorn was standing on the walls of a city she did not know. A fair blonde woman came to stand by him. They spoke and Arwen knew what they said. "Why do you look to the West?" demanded the woman. "What awaits you in the West?"  
  
"Nothing," replied Aragorn. "At least, not anymore. You are the one for me. Forever and always."  
  
The scene changed and it brought tears to Arwen's eyes. Aragorn and the woman were in front of a cleric, being wed. Aragorn lay a crown on her head.  
  
There was a short glimpse of herself on a ship, looking back at the shore. Finally the veil fell again and she looked up in disbelief. "What is this?" she cried. "We are in love, Estel and I! How dare this wench-"  
  
"Arwen," Galadriel cut in sharply. "Do not make a fool of yourself. You do not know if she is evil. She could think the same of you."  
  
"I am sorry," apologized Arwen, though she did not feel very sorry. "But, you must tell me, is this my future? My doom?"  
  
"This will come to pass if a man named Théodred should share your dreams," Galadriel said solemnly.  
  
~*~RETURN TO THE PRESENT~*~  
  
Arwen felt a tear drip down her face. She hastily brushed it away. And so Théodred had appeared. She would not despair. The Mirror had been wrong before and she and Estel had a love that was pure. She could not cry.  
  
"Lady Arwen!" called a voice. She turned to see her dearest friend, Haldir, at the bottom of Cerin Amroth.  
  
"What is it?" she called back.  
  
Haldir sprinted up to her. "Forgive me, Evenstar," he begged. "It was merely an exclamination of your beauty. I had not meant to disturb you!"  
  
"Really Haldir!" smiled Arwen. "You are impossible! What did you come here to tell me?"  
  
Haldir smiled secretly and tucked a flowering elanor flower behind her ear. "Harken, for your prince comes near!"  
  
Arwen frowned, until his riddle dawned on her. "Estel?" she cried. "Estel is here?" Wthout another word, she dashed towards Caras Galdhon.  
  
"Running is not very ladylike," Haldri called after her. He sighed and watched her go, wistfully. "A human should not make the Evenstar light up," he muttered. "Alas for poor forgotten Haldir!"  
  
He slowly walked after her, not at all eager to see his old friend. He had Arwen, while Haldir's only hope was that the Théodred Galadriel had warned Arwen about had taken to dream walking.  
  
~*~  
  
"Are we there yet?" Éowyn inquired, for near the tenth time. She was sitting sideways on his stallion, Roheryn.  
  
"Look around you, Éowyn!" Aragorn said lightly, not catching the worry in her tone. "Does it truly look like we are anywhere that could be habitated?"  
  
"Well, are we almost there?" she inquires, taking a quick glance behind them.  
  
"Do you see those woods?" he cried, finally exasperated. "When we reach them, we will have reached our destination!"  
  
"Well, do you not think you should go a bit faster?" inquired Éowyn.  
  
"No, not really," Aragorn replied through gritted teeth. "Are you in any particular hurry?"  
  
"Yes," nodded Éowyn. "Those Orcs are gaining quite quickly."  
  
"Orcs!" cried Aragorn. He whipped his head around. A ways behind them, was a large pack of Orcs, their black armour shining dully in the moon. Orcs this close to the Golden Wood! What dark days they were coming to! "Yah!" he cried, forcing his horse into a run.  
  
"It is about time," muttered Éowyn, clinging to the Ranger.  
  
"When were you planning on mentioning them?" growled Aragorn.  
  
"I thought you knew," insisted Éowyn.  
  
"Just hold on," instructed Aragorn.  
  
An Orc arrow wized past Éowyn's feet, he felt her shudder. "Noro lim Roheryn!" he called to the stallion.   
  
~*~  
  
Rumil carefully lifted a bit of the foilage he was hiding in and looked out on to the plains. He recognized his brother's friend, Estel and his stallion, but he did not know the child he bore. Still, Estel was assuredly trustworthy, so they would not open fire just yet.  
  
He slipped back to his men. "Wait for my word. The Orcs will only be about fifty paces before you. Make every shot count!"  
  
Bows were risen and arrows were to fitted to every bowstring. Estel crashed through the foilage. He did not seem surprized to see the elves. He quickly turned Roheryn and trotted down to Rumil. He swung out of the saddle and helped the blonde child down. The Orcs had halted now, uncertain. They had heard many tales of the Golden Wood and none of them had been good.  
  
"Well met, Rumil," Estel greeted calmly in elvish. He patted the child's hand soothingly. "Have you a bow for me?"  
  
"Aye," nodded Rumil. "Use it well, Imladris ally." He handed Aragorn a bow he had strapped to his horse's saddle as well as a half-full quiver.  
  
Estel nodded. He turned to the child and gave her gentle orders in Westron, a language Rumil did not know. She nodded bravely and then ran off into the woods. Rumil hissed an elvish curse. "Are you mad, Estel?" he demanded. "No stranger may wander Lothlorien at will!"  
  
"A just rule," agreed Estel. "Which is why I told her to quickly find a hiding spot and stay there until I call for her."  
  
Rumil glared at him, at a loss for words. There was nothing he could do though, the Orcs were moving forward again. "Ninety paces," Rumil whispered. "Fifty-five, fifty, forty-five... Hado i philinn!"  
  
~*~   
  
Éowyn quickly made her way through the woods. She was crying a little, but as she found a hiding spot under some odd golden foilage, she managed to control her emotions. The last swift race had been the scariest event of her life, save the moment in which she was actually overtaken by Orcs. She snapped her head around when she heard a commanding elvish voice shout something. She did not know what he said, as she did not speak elvish.  
  
"Please be all right," she whispered, thinking of Aragorn.  
  
~*~  
  
Every arrow found a mark, killing almost half of the Orcs. "Hero!" shouted Rumil. Aragorn and the elves burst out of the trees and swiftly killed all who had been wounded. "Are there any cavalry?" shouted Aragorn.  
  
"Nay," replied Rumil, after a quick scan of the horizon. "Only infantry. Shall we form line?" Rumil was a Major of the Golden Wood's army, but he knew that Estel was far more experienced in battle, young as he was.  
  
"I believe that would be wise," Aragorn confirmed as an arrow flew past his head.  
  
"Line!" roared Rumil. Instantly the scattered elves formed a perfectly straight line. "Advance three steps and then fire! Faeg i-varv dîn na lanc a nu ranc!   
  
Aragorn lifted his bow and took his place. The Orcs were advancing as well. One- this could prove fatal, advancing so close. Two- Rumil was cutting it dreadfully close. Three- this was it. "Hado i philinn!" roared Rumil. "Dago han, dago han!"  
  
It was sheer murder.  
  
~*~  
Éowyn leapt out of her hiding spot. The wait had been horrible and seeing two elves helping Aragorn to walk was simply too much. She rushed up to them. "Aragorn!" she cried. His eyes were closed and she saw now that the elves were bearing him. He was horribly pale and there was a serious wound on his shoulder.  
  
An elf came up to her. "You...with...us...come," he instructed slowly, obviously not fluent in Westron.  
  
"I will not!" she retorted. "What is wrong with Aragorn? Will he be all right?"  
  
The elves frowned, not understanding her. At that moment, another elf on a horse came thundering up. He leapt down. "Haldir!" cried an elf, relieved. He then spoke to Haldir at length in elvish.  
  
Haldir nodded and walked towards her. "Greetings little one," he smiled. His Westron was perfect. "What is your name?"  
  
"Éowyn," Éowyn answered shortly. "What is wrong with Aragorn?"  
  
"He was injured in the battle," explained Haldir. "Do not worry, the Lady Galadriel will heal him. He will be back on his feet in no time. I am riding ahead with him. Can you ride his horse and come with me?"  
  
"I am of the Rohirrim," Éowyn said stoutly. "I can ride any horse."  
  
Moments later, Haldir and Éowyn galloped off. Haldir bore Aragorn in front of him. They rode to Caras Galadhon in silent haste.  
  
~*~  
  
"Aragorn, can you hear me?" asked a small frightened voice. "I hope you can, because I am very scared. All those elves keep staring at me oddly and saying things I do not understand. This has been the worst week of my life! And there is a pretty dark-haired one who is always here. She's gone now. Sometimes she will talk to me, but I ignore her, even though she speaks normally. Is that rude? Oh Aragorn, please wake up! I want to go home!"  
  
"Do you really?" he asked, slowly opening his eyes.  
  
"Oh Aragorn!" gasped Éowyn, throwing herself at him. "I was so worried and I haven't slept at all." This was true. So true in fact, that Arwen was beginning to worry for Aragorn's human tagalong.  
  
Aragor caught her up in large hug and held her as she wept. "There, there," he soothed calmingly, kissing her blonde head. "I will not let any harm come to you, little one."  
  
"I know," whimpered Éowyn. "But- Aragorn, what happened?"  
  
Éowyn rolled off of him and he flipped on to his side, propping himself up on one elbow. He used his free hand to playfully wind one of her spiral goldens strands around his large, tanned finger. "I made a very grevious mistake in battle," admitted Aragorn. "The blame is mine to bear."  
  
"What did you do?" frowned Éowyn.  
  
"Rumil had just given the command to fire, but I aimed too high and my arrow flew over the Orc's head. I barely had time to draw my sword before he was on top of me."  
  
Éowyn shuddered. "Could you have died?" she asked timidly.  
  
"If it were anyone but me, I would have," answered Aragorn.  
  
"Isn't that a little...conceited?" Éowyn teased, stumbling a little on the difficult word.  
  
"No," Aragorn disagreed. "I was not boasting of my skill, but reminding you that I cannot die, as I have to take care of you."  
  
"I could fend for myself!" Éowyn declared stoutly.  
  
"Oh really?" asked Aragorn, with a twinkle in his eyes. "Even against Aragorn's Deadly Tickle Attack?"  
  
Éowyn squealed as his nimble fingers found their way into the sensitive crevass of her underarms. She tried to get away, but Aragorn, almost fully healed, leapt after her.  
  
Arwen opened the door into Aragorn's room, having heard voices and longing to speak with her lover. However, when she saw the playful romp taking place inside, she closed the door again, smiling to herself. One day, Aragorn would make a good father.  
  
"How fares Estel?" inquired Haldir, coming up behind her.  
  
"I think he will be just fine," answered Arwen, with a small smile.  
  
~*~   
  
One hour later, Aragorn emerged from his room. He took Arwen in his arms and kissed her deeply, oblivious to the sounds and glares of disgust provided by Haldir and Éowyn. After several moments, Haldir cleared his throat. "My lord, lady," he smiled. "If you could finish later, the Lady Galadriel did wish to speak with Estel as soon as he recovered."  
  
"Haldir!" laughed Aragorn, warmly embracing the elf. Haldir's eyes widened in shock and he stiffened alarmingly.  
  
"It- it is nice to see you as well Estel," he stuttered.  
  
Aragorn released him with a rueful grin. "It is nice to see somethings never change," he laughed.  
  
Arwen nodded and Haldir grunted. Arwen smiled and then turned to Éowyn. "Have you decided to trust us Lady Éowyn?"  
  
"Yes," nodded Éowyn. "I am very sorry if I was rude, but the circumstances were most unfortunate. Personally, I thought you were a- a- a fair flower?" Éowyn frowned as Arwen blinked, taken back.  
  
"Did Aragorn tell you to say that?" inquired Haldir drily.  
  
Aragorn laughed loudly as Éowyn nodded reluctantly. Arwen blushed. Éowyn tugged on the she-elf's sleeve. "What is it?" inquired Arwen.  
  
"Might I whisper something in your ear?" Éowyn inquired. "I did not want to say this, but now I think that I will."  
  
Arwen crouched down to Éowyn's level. "What is it dear?" she inquired.  
  
"I think maybe I was rude because I was scared," Éowyn whispered. "Is that quite all right?"  
  
"Oh, my dear child," smiled Arwen. "It is perfectly fine!" On impulse, she pulled Éowyn into a hug. The small child, recently deprived of a mother's love, was surprized to find she felt safe in the older woman's arms.  
  
Arwen stood and joined hands with Éowyn. "How would you like to meet my grandmother?" she asked.  
  
"I would like it...I think," Éowyn answered.  
  
"If we are all ready?" frowned Haldir, only slightly irritated. He began walking. Aragorn walked between Arwen and Éowyn. Éowyn was so fascinated by the amazing sights of Caras Galdhon, that she ignored the reunited lovers' coversation.  
  
"A fair flower, am I?" teased Arwen.  
  
"Of course," Aragorn answered truthfully. "You know I have never thought any differently!"  
  
"It is nice to hear," admitted Arwen. "Even when you send an Edain child to say it."  
  
"I meant it to be a grand, romantic gesture," insisted Aragorn with a laugh. He sobered up. "How I have missed you, my Undòmiel!"  
  
"And I you," replied Arwen. She shot a fond glance at Éowyn. "I am interested to know how you came to find such a pretty child on your journey!"  
  
"Gandalf and I rescued her from Orcs," replied Aragorn. "I remained with her while he continued on to Minas Tirith. She is not all innocent and fair though. Several nights ago she got a hold of my sword and..."   
He hesitated. "I am not sure, but I would say that she was taken by battlerage!"  
  
"Battlerage!" gasped Arwen. "Impossible!"  
  
"I hope so," Aragorn nodded.  
  
Arwen frowned. "Well, at least she is here now," she finally smiled. "Even if she does suffer from battlerage, Grandmother can cure her of it."  
  
"Do you like her?" asked Aragorn.  
  
"Like her?" asked Arwen incredulously. "I want to keep her!"  
  
"I am glad," Aragorn admitted. "I care deeply for her- almost as a daughter...I think."  
  
Arwen chose to ignore the 'I think', mostly as she did not understand it. "We should keep her!" Arwen exclaimed. "She will be happy here. We could be like a little family. Oh, how precious!"  
  
"Oh yes," growled Haldir under his breath. "How bloody precious!"  
  
~*~  
  
Haldir lead them through the elvish city and up to the dwelling of the Lady Galadriel and the Lord Celeborn. When they reached their royal flet, he departed with a short, choppy farewell. When he was out of sight, Aragorn muttered to Arwen; "Well, he was in a good mood, wasn't he?"  
  
"You must be easy on Haldir," reprimanded Arwen gently, her elvish eyes still seeing her best friend. "His life is not an easy one."  
  
Before Aragorn could speak again, a soft silver light announced the arrival of Galadriel and Celeborn.   
  
They were both proud and fair, instantly attracting every eye. Éowyn's jaw dropped and her eyes widened alarmingly. "Greetings," smiled Celeborn. "It has been only a short time since you departed from these woods with Gandalf the Grey, Estel. Why did your ways part so suddenly?"  
  
"We overtook a party of Orcs," explained Aragorn. "They had in turn overtaken Éowyn here and we barely got her out alive. Gandalf continued on whilst I returned with Éowyn."  
  
"Hello little one," Galadriel smiled, turning her piercing blue eyes on Éowyn. Her mouth opened a little and her eyes widened. "What did you say your name was child?"  
  
"I am Éowyn of the Rohirrim," answered Éowyn, never taking her eyes from Galadriel. "My father was Éomund and my mother, Théodwyn. They have both passed on though, so I reside in Meduseld with my uncle, King Théoden."  
  
Aragorn's eyes widened. The news of Éowyn's heritage came as a huge shock. He had served under Éomund and Théoden, bearing the name Thorongil. "You did not mention you were royalty," he said aghast.  
  
"You never asked," muttered Éowyn, still not taking her eyes from Galadriel.  
  
"Aragorn Elessar!" said Galadriel sharply. Aragorn winced. Galadriel was the only one he knew who called him by his full and proper name. Somehow it always made him feel as though he was in trouble. "Does Éowyn suffer from some uncommon disease?"  
  
"Yes milady," admitted Aragorn. "I believe she may have some form of battlerage."  
  
Celeborn started. 'That is rather unusual," he mused. "However, let her now be cured. Orophin, bring her your sword."  
  
Obediently, Orophin drew his sword and reversed it. "Be ready to leap back," Galadriel cautioned. Orophin nodded and then offered the hilt to Éowyn.  
  
Now completely confused, Éowyn timidly took the sword. At once she became the shieldmaiden. Her flashing grey eyes turned towards Galadriel and she charged forwards, yelling out a Rohirrim battlecry. Orophin, armed with only his long daggers, dashed forwards, challenging the she-demon. After only a few clashes, Éowyn disarmed him and slammed him to the ground.  
  
Aragorn leapt up. Their swords met and for a moment, they stood locked in deadly combat, but eventually Éowyn broke free of his hold. Aragorn, unwilling to hurt Éowyn, hung back, allowing Éowyn to kick his feet out from under him. He crashed to the ground and his shoulder wound reopened. "Éowyn, stop!" cried Arwen.  
  
Aragorn tried to get up, but failed. Éowyn, no longer seeing a threat, advanced again. Only Celeborn stood in her way. He drew his own ancient blade and advanced. Their swords met again and again, yet in this match, Éowyn was forced into the defensive. Celeborn's skill was natural and it had been honed over countless years. His victory against any and all was assured, unless he chance upon the Lord Elrond, who was the greatest warrior in all of Middle Earth during the Third Age.  
  
He easily disarmed Éowyn, but this time the Shieldmaiden remained, even without her sword. "Hold her Celeborn," instructed Galadriel.  
  
Celeborn kneed Éowyn in the stomach, then kicked the back of her knees. She fell to the ground, crying out in pain. He grabbed her arms and pinned them behind her back, then roughly dragged her to her feet. Arwen watched in horror as her grandfather's long hidden warrior abilities were brought to the surface. Child or no, Éowyn had tried to threaten the woman he cared for and his anger was deep.  
  
Galadriel calmly descended from the dias and walked to her husband and the shieldmaiden. When she reached them, her love for Celeborn, usually hidden in public view was at last apparent. She laid a long, pale hand on the struggling shieldmaiden's brow. "Lasto beth nin, tolo dan na galad. Edain, lasto beth daer, tolo dan na galad.  
  
Éowyn stiffened, then relaxed and once more became the Rohirrim child. "Release her," Galadriel smiled sadly. "She is healed."  
  
"Thank the Valar!" praised Arwen as she rushed to Éowyn's side.  
  
"Take her to her room Undòmiel," suggested Celeborn. "When you leave, summon healers to tend to Estel and Orophin."  
  
"Yes grandfather," nodded Arwen, taking Éowyn in her arms.  
  
Arwen departed with a last glance at Aragorn, who was being helped by a healer. Celeborn returned to Galadriel on the dias. "You still fight well, my lord," complimented Galadriel, love shining brightly in her eyes.  
  
"Thank you, fair lady," smiled Celeborn, the love reflecting in his eyes as well. However, the smile soon became a frown. "Yet, I am surprized. Did the woman of Rohirrim who could possibly steal Aragorn's heart from our granddaughter just attack me?"  
  
Galadriel nodded. "I amar prestar aen,"she mumured.  
  
"So it has," nodded Celeborn. "And too much for my liking."  
  
~*~  
  
Boromir sighed and glared at Éomer and Théodred. A week had passed since they had arrived in Minas Tirith and they had both sunk into a deep gloom. At least the Marshall Elfhelm had managed to continue functioning, though he was understandably worried. He had befriended Faramir and they would spend long hours talking or riding together.  
  
"Will you at least try to eat something?" Boromir begged Éomer.  
  
"I am not hungry," sulked Éomer.  
  
"Will you not talk to him?" cried Boromir.  
  
Théodred frowned. "Éomer, try to eat something," Théodred instructed sharply. "As the last of your line, you must keep up your strength."  
  
Éomer burst into tears and leapt off of his chair. "Oh, that was helpful!" snarled Boromir sarcastically.  
  
"What would you have me do?" snapped Théodred snapped. "Lie?"  
  
"You do not know that she is dead!" shouted Boromir.  
  
"Then where in Middle Earth is she?" roared Théodred.  
  
"In Rivendell, in the House of Elrond," replied a voice from the door.  
  
Théodred and Boromir turned to face a man they both knew, though by a different name.  
  
"Mithrandir!" cried Boromir.  
  
"Gandalf!" shouted Théodred. "How do you know of my cousin's whereabouts?"  
  
"Why should I not?" demanded Gandalf, in true wizard fashion. "But that is where she is and I know it because I do. Your greeting leaves much lacking. Really Boromir, I thought you father had trained you better. Faramir certainly gave me better welcome."  
  
"He saw Éowyn," Faramir explained, entering with an eager Éomer in tow. "He and his friend Estel discovered her in serious danger, but they rescued her. He mentioned it in passing and I persisted. The girl matches Éowyn's descriptions perfectly."  
  
"I was glad to be of service," announced Gandalf. "But I must speak to Denethor..."  
  
"Wait!" Théodred begged. "Are you sure this Estel was heading to Rivendell."  
  
"As sure as I am standing before you know," replied Gandalf, standing. "Now I really must-"  
  
"Then let us go!" Éomer cried. "We must go now!"  
  
"Easy, little master," soothed Gandalf. "How are you to get to Rivendell without one who knows the elvish paths? I will accompany you in the morning!"  
  
Knowing it was useless to argue, Éomer and Théodred, hopes renewed again, went off to find Elfhelm while Gandalf went to his audience with the Steward of Gondor.  
  
Faramir sighed when he and his brother were left in peace. "Well, thank the Valar that is over,' he smiled happily.  
  
"Certainly," nodded Boromir. "One more day would have driven me mad!"  
  
Faramir nodded in perfect agreement. "I wonder who this Estel chap is though," he mused. "I have never heard of him."  
  
"I do not know," admitted Boromir. "Oh well, it does not matter. He cannot be very important...."  
  
~*~*~*~ 


	6. A Red Star

Disclaimer: See chapter 1  
  
Author's Note: I know I am gonna get people asking me this, so I'll clear it up now. Éowyn speaks a bit of elvish in this chapter because she has been spending about a month in Lothlòrien and it is only natural she would pick some of it up!  
  
Nightfyr: Thanks for both of your reviews. You will see in chapter five that Aragorn does eventually figure out what is ailing Éowyn. Thanks again!  
  
Lothiriel: Thanks for your review! I actually did go through the story and took all of AJ Buress' advice. She is a really amazing writer and I personally look up to her as an author. I also went and changed both of the things you suggested...I got my Silmarillion back, so I won't be making silly mistakes like that any more...or so I would hope.  
  
ScarsonaScribbler'sHeart: Thanks so much for your wonderfully lengthy review. I decided I'll let you all in on a secret...I am actually considering doing a sequel to this in which Éowyn and Aragorn meet again and fall in love...I don't want to make anything official as its a ways off.  
  
Eleni the Tiny Elf: Wow! Everyone else in the world is so very much more knowledgable of Lord of the Rings than I...but it does make sense, it definitely makes sense! Thanks for enjoying it!  
  
Thanks also to Frodo (not the real Frodo- the reviewer), saicho-18, Galea ( you're not still mad are you?), Jessica and Aragorn and Legolas luvers! Your reviewer are very helpful and cherished! Hope you enjoy this as much as you liked the other chapters.  
  
Yours  
  
Elbereth94  
  
~*~  
  
Come with me, close you eyes  
  
Hold my hand, it'll be all right  
  
Don't be scared, don't be shy  
  
Lift your head, it'll be all right  
  
~*~  
Chapter 6- A Red Star  
  
The next morning found Thèodred and Boromir standing just outside of Minas Tirith, facing the growing darkness in the East. Boromir's face was grim, but Thèodred's held hope that not even the shadow could deter. "It is a long journey to Imladris," commented Boromir, not looking at Thèodred. "I suppose you have a path planned out?"  
  
"Yes," Thèodred nodded. "Gandalf knows many paths for us to take."  
  
"Well, that is lucky," Boromir commented lamely. "When you do return, I would ask that you make your way here again." He finally turned to face Thèodred. "The shadow is growing, my friend, and a hand as skilled as yours would be very welcome."  
  
"I will come, if I can," Thèodred promised.  
  
"Good," grinned Boromir. "I am glad. My father wished to send his blessings and I add my own. Now go, and rescue your little shieldmaiden."  
  
"Farewell, friend," Thèodred smiled. Boromir nodded, then jogged back ot the city. Thèodred watched as his friend was swallowed by the shadows of the gates, then hurried back to his comrades.  
  
Éomer and Gandalf were already mounted. Elfhelm was standing, holding both his horse and Thèodred's. Thèodred mounted and Elfhelm tossed him his reins, then swung up on his own mount. "Gentlemen," nodded Gandalf. "We have a long journey a head of us. Shall we?"  
  
"Lead on Gandalf," granted Thèodred. "Many leagues lay between us and our kin. We shall not rest until they have been closed."  
  
"Very well," smiled Gandalf. "Follow my lead. Yah!" He cantered off, closely followed by Thèodred, Elfhelm and Éomer.  
  
Many days and weeks they traveled. They skirted along the river Anduin, hastily making as much speed as they could. One night, one and a half months into their journey, they halted in sight of a great forest. "What forest is that?" inquired Éomer, forever curious.  
  
"The forest of Lòrien," answered Gandalf. "The realm of the fair Lady of the Golden Wood. Oh, how fair those paths!"  
  
"Might we walk the paths?" asked Éomer eagerly.  
  
"Not today," disagreed Gandalf. "Our path does not lead us there. For the moment, we have no business in the Golden Wood."  
  
He could not have been more wrong.  
  
~*~  
  
"In the spring of the year after was born in Gondolin, Eärendil, Halfelven-" Arwen read aloud from one of her grandmother's books.  
  
"Arwen," interrupted Éowyn. Arwen looked up, surprised. Usually tales of long ago could hold the child captivated for hours on end.  
  
"What is it, dear?" inquired Arwen.  
  
"Could you sing rather than read tonight?" Éowyn begged.  
  
"Of course," agreed Arwen.  
  
"One more thing," Éowyn continued. "Where is Aragorn?"  
  
"Oh, he's around here....somewhere," Arwen replied weakly. She knew Aragorn was getting restless. He never stayed more than two weeks in Lothlòrien, but it had been over a month since he had entered the forest. His wound had fully healed and Arwen dreaded that he would soon leave her again, taking Éowyn with him.  
  
"Where?" implored the child, looking up. She was lying in bed, in her nightclothes. Arwen sat in a chair at her bedside, reading her to sleep.  
  
"I do not rightly know," Arwen admitted.  
  
"I do," said a deep voice. Aragorn strode into the room. "Hello, my ladies! How was your day?" He kissed Arwen gently, then went to sit beside Éowyn. She scrambled up and grinned.  
  
"It was all right," Éowyn answered. "Arwen and Haldir took me to Cerin Amroth. Haldir taught me two new elvish words!"  
  
"Did he now?" Aragorn smiled. "What did he teach you?"  
  
"Lómielindi and lómie," replied Éowyn. They mean night-bird and dusk. Where were you all day?"  
  
"I was out with Rumil," answered Aragorn. "He was-"  
  
Arwen stopped listening. She knew when they got like this it was best to leave. She and Éowyn had gotten quite close, but no one would ever be able to come between the child and Aragorn. Quietly, Arwen closed her book and slipped out of the room. She smiled lightly, closing the door behind her. She doubted they had noticed her go.  
  
"Undòmiel!" greeted Haldir. She pressed a finger to her lips. "Ah- of course. Is she sleeping?"  
  
"No," whispered Arwen. "But she and Aragorn must not be disturbed."  
  
"If that is the case, what would you say to a night time walk with a dear pal?" Haldir invited.  
  
"I think that would be most enjoyable!" smiled Arwen.  
  
~*~  
  
Aragorn smiled down at the blonde child curled up in his lap. How he cared for her! He prayed to Eru her family never came looking for her. "Aragorn, what star is that?" inquired Éowyn, pointing at a red star.  
  
"That is Carnil," answered Aragorn dreamily. "Do you like it?"  
  
"Yes," nodded Éowyn. "It will be our star. As long as we are together, it will be happy. But when we're apart, it will be dreadfully unhappy."  
  
"Then it must be amused," teased Aragorn. "Which means I'm stuck with you!"  
  
"Is that bad bad thing?" asked Éowyn.  
  
"No," disagreed Aragorn. "It is a very good thing!"  
  
"Thats good," murmured Éowyn. "Will you sing?"  
  
"Of course," agreed Aragorn. He began to sing in his low, husky voice that soothed the child so very much.  
  
"I'll try to make the stars shine brighter for you,  
  
And I'll take you on my shoulder, lift you way up high  
  
I'll even chase the rainbow, hanging in the sky  
  
Cause after all is said  
  
After all is done  
  
I'd do anything for you!  
  
Come with me, close your eyes  
  
Hold my hand, it'll be all right  
  
Don't be scared, don't be shy  
  
Lift your head, it'll be all right!"  
  
  
The song faded as Aragorn realized Éowyn was sleeping. He gently picked her up and returned her to her bed. He laid her down and tucked her in.  
  
"Goodnight, father," whispered Éowyn, half-asleep.  
  
Aragorn smiled down at her, feeling love for the small child crashing over him like the tide upon the shore. He bent down and kissed her forehead. "Good night, my child," he whispered.  
  
He quietly slipped out of the room. Haldir and Arwen were waiting outside the door. "You have surely not waited all this time?" he inquired worried.  
  
"Nay," answered Haldir. "The Lady and I took a walk and have just recently returned.  
  
Arwen stood up and clasped Aragorn's hands. She looked at him searchingly. "When do you leave?" she asked softly.  
  
"The day after tomorrow," answered Aragorn. It no longer shocked him when Arwen could read his mind.  
  
"Will you take Éowyn with you?" sighed Arwen.  
  
"No," replied Aragorn. "The mountain pass is too dangerous. After I have visited with your father, I will return for her."  
  
"She will be heartbroken," Arwen predicted.  
  
"I know," sighed Aragorn. "But I will not risk her. She is as a daughter to me...I will let no harm come to her."  
  
"We will take care of her," smiled Haldir, laying a hand on Arwen's arm.  
  
"Good," grinned Aragorn. "You both must teach her some elvish- she has been after me. But there is simply no time. I have to go now- the Lord Celeborn wished to speak with me."  
  
"Estel!" Arwen called after him. She had resolved to tell him of her warning from Galadriel, and now seemed as good a time as any. "I must speak with you."  
  
"It will have to wait 'till tomorrow night!" Aragorn called as he ran. "I have to go now, and I have promised the day to Éowyn!"  
  
Arwen sighed lightly as he dashed away. Haldir placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. "You must not be disappointed with Estel," he smiled. "He is a very busy man with much to do and a short time to do it in."  
  
"I know," frowned Arwen. "It is just hard sometimes."  
  
"Come," teased Haldir. "I have naught to do. Will you speak with me?"  
  
Arwen nodded and allowed herself to be lead away.  
  
~*~  
  
Éowyn clasped hands with Aragorn as they strolled on top of Cerin Amroth. She grinned as the wind gently tickled her. There were the type of days she and Éomer delighted in- a day quite obviously meant for play. She laughed and unclasped Aragorn's hand. She lightly swatted his arm. "Tag, you're it!" she grinned. She dashed off at top speed. She stopped though, quickly realizing Aragorn wasn't following.  
  
He was walking after her, with a slightly bemused smile on his face. She ran back to him and after pausing to make sure his act was no ruse, hit him harder. "Tag, you're it!" she shouted, running off again.  
  
However, she was forced to stop and turn again when he did not quicken his pace. "Come back!" he called. She obediently returned. "What were you doing?" he inquired, smiling down at her.  
  
"I was trying to play tag," replied Éowyn. "But you're not very good!"  
  
"Tag?" repeated Aragorn, confused.  
  
Éowyn studied him, suspecting he might be trying to fool her. But on his tanned face, she saw only curiosity. "You truly do not know how to play!" marvelled Éowyn.  
  
Play. There was little time for play in Aragorn's childhood. He was raised in Rivendell with the elves. Elves matured quickly, and he was expected to do so as well. Besides, already Elrond had been secretly bringing him up to step into his heritage.  
  
"No," he admitted. "I do not know how to play."  
  
"Oh my!" exclaimed Éowyn. "Wel, its not very difficult. I could teach you well enough."  
  
Aragorn looked around, fearing ridicule. Éowyn, wise as only a child could be, quickly put a stop to it. "If you want to learn, you have to stop caring what people think," she instructed. Aragorn stared at her, astonished. She shrugged. "Its one of the key rules."  
  
Aragor smiled down at her. For near the thousandth time, he wished that her family would never come seeking her. He knelt beside her and clasped both her hands in his. "Teach me," he whispered.  
  
~*~  
  
Aragorn laughed out loud and gathered Éowyn into his arms. They rubbed thier noses together and laughed again. Aragorn swirled her around at arm's length, always making sure his grasp was firm. Finally, he held her close and they tumbled lightly on to the grass.  
  
Éowyn laughed and snuggled up into his chest. They talked for a while, speaking of many, pointless things. Aragorn had never felt so young and carefree. Eventually, they drifted off into a light sleep. The sun made its way across the sky. As it neared the horizon, Aragorn propped himself against a tree and Éowyn curled up in his lap.  
  
"I love you, my father," mumured Éowyn.  
  
Aragorn started and pulled Éowyn closer and kissed the top of her fair head. "I love you, my daughter," he replied softly. "Éowyn, there is something I must tell you."  
  
"What is it?" she asked drowsily.  
  
"I leave for Rivendell in the morning," he informed her.  
  
"No!" protested Éowyn. "Please do not go! Do not leave me here! You are all I have!"  
  
"Do you not care for Arwen and Haldir?" inquired Aragorn, hating himself for leaving her.  
  
"I do," nodded Éowyn. "But you are more. You are my ada."  
  
"I must go Éowyn," Aragorn whispered. "I will return as soon as is humanly possible."  
  
"My last father left and never came back," whimpered Éowyn, weeping into Aragorn's chest.  
  
Aragorn wrapped his arms around her, rocking her gently. His heart wept for this little child who had so easily claimed his heart. "I will come back, Éowyn," he assured her. "Nothing could keep me from you!"  
  
"You promise?" asked Éowyn, shakily.  
  
"I swear," whispered Aragorn.  
  
"Oh Aragorn!" cried Éowyn, her body shaking with sobs. Aragorn held her tightly and softly sang to her. After she had calmed down, her carried her towards Caras Galadhon. As he neared his temporary home, he came upon Arwen.  
  
"There you are!" smiled the she-elf. "I have missed you. Are you ready to talk?"  
  
"No," admitted Aragorn. "I am still bound to Éowyn."  
  
"Oh," frowned Arwen, creast-fallen. "Might I join you?"  
  
Aragorn's face looked pained. "I would rather you did not," he admitted. "I need to spend time alone with her." He indicated the child in his arms.  
  
"Oh, that is perfectly fine," Arwen said with a tight, twisted smile. "I understand. You two have a good time." She turned away quickly so Aragorn would not see her tears.  
  
As she strolled through the elvish city, she dabbed lightly at her eyes. Already Aragorn was drifting away from her and the strange blonde woman had yet to appear.  
  
~*~  
  
Haldir, Arwen and Éowyn bid Aragorn farewell in the grey gloom before dawn. Éowyn had been yawning, tired after a late night spent in front of the fire being entertained by Aragorn's stories. By now, she was awake and woeful, tears in her stern, grey eyes.  
  
Haldir and Aragorn clasped each other's shoulders wordlessly and nodded in the standard elvish parting. Arwen embraced Aragorn and he returned it, as well as bestowing a kiss on her cheek. "Namarie,*" he whispered.  
  
Arwen held back her tears. She was still disappointed. She had yet to tell Aragorn of Galadriel's warning. "I will think of you, and you shall be forever in my heart," she promised. Aragorn nodded and quickly went to Éowyn.   
  
"Aragorn," she choked. He swept her into his arms and held her tightly.  
  
"Oh, Éowyn," he sighed heavily. "Do not cry. I will be with you in your heart." He smiled warmly and placed a hand over his own heart. She laid her small hand over his larger one.  
  
"I'll miss you awfully, Aragorn," confessed Éowyn.   
  
"Nonsense," scoffed Aragorn. "After all, every time we look upon Carnil, we will be together! And, I will come back soon."  
  
"Namarie," whispered Éowyn. Aragor kissed her forehead and gently wiped away the tears streaming down her face. He offered her a grin and she gave him a shaky one in return. He left her reluctantly and swung up on Roheryn. He urged the stallion into a trot and began to post.  
  
He did not look back. As he disappeared into the fog, Carnil winked out. Arwen turned and left. Haldir watched her go. Something was eating away at the she-elf.  
  
He sighed heavily. Éowyn was still watching where Aragorn had vanished into the mist. He laid a hand on her shoulder. "Come, Éowyn," he smiled. "You will not miss Aragorn as much as you think if you keep busy."  
  
"Go kiss an Orc!" snapped Éowyn. She wrenched away from the elf and ran after Arwen.  
  
~*~  
  
After a full week of brooding, Arwen found herself settling back into the normal routine in Lòrien. She woke up, broke her fast and spent her mornings reading or sewing. At lunch she would dine with one friend or another. Haldir was usually present at these meetings and would spend the lazy afternoons with her. At dinner, she dined with Galadriel, Celeborn and Éowyn. She ended the day by tucking Éowyn into bed and then taking a moonlit walk with Haldir.  
  
Her days flew by and it wasn't until Éowyn had been unhappy for a full month that Arwen truly began to worry about it. She mentioned it to Haldir one night.  
  
"Well, why don't you take her on a picnic?" suggested Haldir. "Or you could go boating or something to get him off of her mind."  
  
"You know, I just might!" Arwen nodded. "Aragorn loves her dearly and I would not have him return to a woeful child. Thank you, Haldir!"  
  
Arwen gently kissed his cheek and then rushed off down the walking path. Haldir sighed deeply as he watched her go.  
  
He looked to the stars. "Elbereth, why, oh why, did she fall in love with a human?" His eyes fell on the red star, Carnil- the star Éowyn and Aragorn used as a reminder of each other. It seemed to be mocking him. The elf snarled and cast his eyes to the ground.  
  
~*~  
  
"Éowyn, wake up, dear," whispered a female voice. Éowyn opened her eyes to find Arwen smiling at her. "Come along, child," she coaxed. "We are going to go on a picnic."  
  
"A picnic?" repeated Éowyn, excitement swelling up inside of her.  
  
"Yes," nodded Arwen, with a laugh. "Come along!" She handed Éowyn an elvish robe in pale green. Éowyn quickly changed into the elvish garment.  
  
"Will you braid my hair?" asked Éowyn to Arwen, who was sitting in a rocking chair by her bed.  
  
"Of course," agreed Arwen. Éowyn knelt beside Arwen and the she-elf deftly braided Éowyn's long blonde hair into a complicated elvish braid. When she was done, she lightly kissed Éowyn's cheek. "Come on!" she laughed, taking Éowyn's hand in one hand and the picnic basket in the other.  
  
They spent a wonderful day on the sunny shores of the Nimrodel, playing games, chatting breezily and nibbling elvish food. By the end of the afternoon, as Haldir had predicted, Éowyn had learned to laugh again.  
  
~*~  
  
Galadriel watched as Arwen and Éowyn made their way up the path to their home. Celeborn joined her, entwining his hand with hers. "Their falling out has already begun," Galadriel continued. "And this is with her as a child. If he were to meet her as a full-grown woman...."  
  
"You are sure?" questioned Celeborn. It was a useless question. He knew his wife never said anything unless she was positive it would come to pass.  
  
"Yes, I am," nodded Galadriel. "Éowyn will eventually claim Aragorn's heart and in the process break Arwen's."  
  
~*~*~*~ 


	7. The Truth Revealed

Disclaimer: See chapter 1.  
  
AN: Thanks to all of my lovely reviewers, I love you all..even the Great One who rather confused me with the useage of the f-word, but I got the meaning! LOL. I have a website now for all my fanfiction- imagine that! Anyways, check it out...the link is on my profile. :P  
  
Also, I am afraid I have been most misleading. This story is the prequel into what will become a very large piece of work indeed...a AU series with Éowyn and Aragorn falling in love. If that isn't your taste...you might want to drop this story as there will be some unanswered questions when this one ends. I hope you can handle that as I cherish each and every one of you! ;)  
  
Chapter 7- The Truth Revealed  
Come with me, close your eyes  
  
Hold my hand, it'll be all right  
  
Don't be scared, don't be shy  
  
Lift your head, it'll be all right!  
  
Aragorn turned as he walked away from his brothers, Elladan and Elrohir. In truth, they were not his blood brothers, but they were far too close to add the correct 'foster', to the title.  
  
"Sleep well, Edain!" called Elladan, his brown hair swinging as he laughed and his grey eyes twinkling.  
  
"You will need rest to keep up with us on the hunt tomorrow!" finished Elrohir, identical to his twin brother.  
  
"I could easily defeat you weak Eldar!" Aragorn boasted. It was not true of course. Most definitely, he would need his rest tonight if he were to match their pace.  
  
"Believe as you will," shrugged Elrohir.  
  
"But know that you think in vain!" laughed Elladan. Their laughter echoed back to Aragorn even as they faded from sight. Aragorn smiled and took a deep breath. The air in Rivendell was always so much more wholesome than that in the Wild. Not for the first time, he wished Éowyn was there with him. He let his mind paint fantasies of when she would join him. They could go riding on the many paths that he knew like the back of his hand. He glanced into the sky and saw Carnil- faint in the dim twilight. Somehow he knew Éowyn was looking at Carnil and thinking of him.  
  
"I will return to you soon, my daughter," he whispered.  
  
"Your daughter?" whispered a voice in his ear. Aragorn started, then turned to grin at his foster-father. "You did not tell me I was a grand-father!" Elrond admonished.  
  
The Master of Imladris regarded the Edain he had come to regard as his child with a slightly bemused smile on his face. It was impossible to think that at one time he had been unwilling to raise him. He had worried he might become to attatched to Estel and then lose him as he had lost his dearest friend, Gil-galad and his beloved Celebrian. With time, he had accepted the doom of losing Estel and began to focus on cherishing the short time they had together.  
  
"Welcome home, my son," smiled Elrond. "You have been greatly missed!"  
  
"Atar!*" cried Aragorn, warmly embracing the elf-lord. Elrond started a little, before returning the gesture. Elves, on a whole, were not as emotional as humans and Aragorn's open displays of affection had taken some time to get used to. "I have missed you as well."  
  
They parted. "Come," smiled Elrond. "We must talk. I am eager to hear of this daughter."  
  
~*~  
  
Elrond frowned thoughtfully as Aragorn told the tale of how he had met Éowyn, the Rohirrim child. Elrond had the gift of foresight, and Galadriel had sent him word of his daughter's newfound doom. The Half-Elf was one of the wisest of his day and as Aragorn spoke hesitantly of the White Lady Éowyn had become in her battlerage, Elrond quickly put two and two together and got four. He could not help but offering a silent thanks to the Valar. He was greatly distressed at the love between Aragorn and Arwen.  
  
Nightly he begged Varda[1] for it to pass. "Ada, you are not listening," Aragorn broke into his thoughts.  
  
"I was listening," insisted Elrond. "But thinking as well."  
  
"As you say," smiled Aragorn. "As I was saying, I believe I will settle in Lórien and raise Éowyn as my daughter."  
  
Elrond's eyebrows shot up in shock. If Aragorn came to regard Éowyn as a daughter, their love could never blossom. That would not do at all! "I do not think that wise," Elrond advised mildly.  
  
"Why not?" demanded Aragorn, who had wished from Elrond's blessing.  
  
"For two reasons," answered the half-elf. "One, her family is still very much alive! I have heard tell of this Théodred. He will not rest until she is found. Eventually, no matter how you care for each other, she will begin to miss them."  
  
Aragorn felt his heart drop. He knew what Elrond said was true, but he had hoped he and Arwen would come, with time, to replace her family. "And the other reason?" he asked woefully.  
  
Elrond hesitated. "Know first, that I do not mean to hurt you, my son."  
  
"I know that you would never hurt me willingly," Aragorn smiled, reassuringly.  
  
Elrond returned his own, sad smile. "Aragorn, you may be a man, but your life is almost thrice longer than pernormal. Éowyn will enter the Halls of Mandos afore you." He paused and placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "I will have to know my son died before me. I do not wish for him to share that pain. Éowyn is better off with her own people."  
  
Aragorn's eyes were emotionless, but Elrond knew his son had been cut deep by his harsh words. "I am sorry, Estel," whispered Elrond. "But that is the way our world works."  
  
Aragorn glanced at the floor, unwilling to meet Elrond's gaze. "I will leave you," Elrond finally sighed. When he reached the door, Aragorn spoke.  
  
"Ada, what was it like to watch Elros die?" Aragorn inquired.  
  
Elrond closed his eyes as the old pain flooded him. Not looking at Aragorn, he replied. "It was a living hell. Do not ask me again."  
  
"Yes, ada," agreed Aragorn, sorrow in his voice. "Please, forgive me."  
  
Elrond smiled wearily. "Between us, Estel, there is nothing to forgive."  
  
He walked out of the room and began to make his way towards his chambers. He wanted to be alone and lose himself in memories of the past.  
  
He was intercepted by his ever chippy councillor, Glorfindel. The elf was fair as was proper for a male, with long golden hair and clear, honest eyes. Currently though, the eyes were clouded with confusion. "Lord Elrond!" he called. "Olórin is here! He brings with him three Edain; two grown and one but a child."  
  
Elrond sighed. "Take me to them, then return and bring Aragorn. He is always eager to speak with Mithrandir. Did the Hildor [2] name themselves?"  
  
"Aye," nodded Glorfindel, leading Elrond in the direction of his study. "They hail from Rohan." Elrond's eyes narrowed. "The child bears the name Éomer, while the men are Marshall Elfhelm and the Prince Théodred."  
  
Elrond's face split into a wide smile. "Did they want anything particular?"  
  
Glorfindel, mystified by his lord's sudden joy, nodded. "They are looking for Éomer's sister, Éowyn Éadig. I said no Edain child had come to Imladris since Estel, but they were quite persistant." He shot another glance at Elrond. "What in Oromë's name are you grinning about?"  
  
"Forgive me, Glorfindel," smiled Elrond. "But you have just brought me some excellent news!"  
  
~*~  
  
"Lady Galadriel, why have you brought me here?" frowned Éowyn. It had been two months since she had parted from Aragorn and three and a half since she had left Rohan. She thought that by now she was somewhat accustomed to the oddities of elves. However, when she had been awoken by the Lady of the Golden Wood in the middle of the night, she had realized she had barely skimmed the surface.  
  
"I brought you here so that you might see a glimpse into what may become a tangled future," Galadriel replied. "It is dangerous to see your future at a young age, but I thought it necessary. Will you look?"  
  
"Yes, I suppose," shrugged Éowyn. She didn't know how a basin of water could show her the future, but she was willing to try anything once.  
  
She stepped up to the basin and peered in. At first she saw only stars, particularly Carnil. However, suddenly the veil drew away and her eyes widened in shock.  
  
She was staring at Aragorn and Boromir's younger brother, Faramir. They stood back to back, both with fierce determination in their eyes. They faded and a horrible Witch-King on an equally horrible beast replaced them. The man and beast were all black and radiated evil. Éowyn trembled, but kept her eyes locked on his red ones. One of the eyes became all, large and fiery. It was lidless and saw all, stripping Éowyn's mind and seeing all of her secret thoughts and feelings. They were in a deadly staring contest and Éowyn knew she could never win. But suddeny the eye vanished and she was looking at an oily skinned man. He was looking at the back of a blonde-haired woman with lust in his eyes.  
  
He faded too, replaced with a vision of what must be her older self, holding a sword. There was darkness all around her and she was the only light. "You look not upon a man- but a woman!" she cried. Éowyn's eyes were drawn to a small figure crouched behind her. He was the size of a child, but his face was too mature for a youth. Then that too, faded.  
  
There was a quick flash of Aragorn outside a dark cave, followed by a glimpse of Faramir holding the hand of a woman she did not know. A small scene played out before her. She and Aragorn knelt before a cleric and he chanted over them. "Nessa, bless Éowyn Éadig as she pledges herself to this man of Tulkas."  
  
Then the curtain fell again and she was looking at the stars once more. "Is....is that my future?" she inquired.  
  
Galadriel frowned at her thoughtfully. "Even the wisest cannot tell," she answered. "For the mirror shows many things." She crossed to Éowyn and crouched so she could look directly at the Rohirrim child. "Things that were, things that are and some things that have not and may never come to pass."  
  
"Can I make those things happen?" inquired Éowyn.  
  
"Even the smallest person can change the course of their destiny," Galadriel smiled. "But come, for now, you will rest in Lothlórien. For the time, your destiny will await your move." She rose and clasped Éowyn's hand. Slowly, they walked back to Aragorn and Éowyn's home, each deep in thought.  
  
~*~  
  
Elrond frowned thoughtfully at his guests. Gandalf, as always, was mild-mannered and very unruffled. He declined wine, contenting himself with the occasional puff on the pipe he kept carefully concealed in his staff. The Marshall Elfhelm had accepted his wine and sipped away at it. He stared around, marvelling continuously at his surroundings. When he had caught sight of the magneficient view offered by Elrond's study's window, his breath had caught and his eyes had filled with tears. He had yet to take his eyes from the window.  
  
The child, Éomer, refused to sit and stood in the middle of the room, fixing Elrond with a malicious glare. It was obvious he cared deeply for his sister. Until he met the Aragorn Elrond had told them of, he seemed determined to hold Elrond fully accountable for his sister's disapperance.  
  
The last was Théodred. He was Prince of Rohan and the leader of the Rohirrim cavalry. It was he Elrond had expected to speak. His comrades had clearly expected it as well, but his silence had forced Elfhelm to tell the tale of the disapperance of Éowyn and their long weary hunt for her.  
  
"You are quiet, son of Théoden," Elrond said courteously. "If you worry for your cousin, I assure you, she is in the best of hands. She is in the care of my daughter and my wife's parents."  
  
"Nay," disagreed Théodred disagreed. "No longer do I worry for Éowyn. It is this place....I know this place. I have been here in my dreams."  
  
"My realm is indeed a thing of dreams," Elrond allowed. "It may just be a figment of your imagination."  
  
"No," disagreed Théodred, stubbornly. "Do you know of an elf-maiden who bears the name, Undómiel?"  
  
Elrond blinked, momentarily taken back. "What do you know of Arwen Undómiel?" demanded Aragorn, striding into the room with Glorfindel on his heels. "Who are these men, ada? What do they want with Éowyn?"  
  
"Estel, calm your temper," soothed Elrond.  
  
"Estel!" cried Théodred angrily, leaping to his feet. "Then this is the child-thief! You have lead us on a merry chase, Elf-friend- but no more! Give me my cousin!"  
  
The truth dawned on Aragorn and the pain of losing Éowyn brought his anger to the surface. "No child-thief am I!" he shouted. "I am her saviour! She was almost cut down by Orcs when I came upon her! She pleaded for me to let her stay with me so she would not have to return to you! My love and I have loved her as though she were our own!"  
  
"That is ridiculous!" Théodred growled.  
  
"You and your kin have abused her for the last time!" shouted Aragorn. "I will raise her now!"  
  
"She belongs with the Rohirrim and her kin!" roared Théodred. "Not with some nomad Ranger and his elven whore!"  
  
"You will not ever speak of Undómiel like that again!" growled Aragorn. He leapt forward before Glorfindel could restrain him. Théodred, shocked at hearing the name Undómiel, quickly found himself overpowered. Within moments they were on the floor, Aragorn's bare blade pressed against Théodred's throat.  
  
"Estel!" gasped Glorfindel, horrified.  
  
"My lord!" cried Elfhelm. They both dashed to pull Aragorn off of Théodred and ended up ramming into each other.   
  
"Out of my path, you foolish Edain!" growled Glorfindel.  
  
"At least the Edain do not kidnap children, unlike the Eldar and their friends!" retorted Elfhelm.  
  
"She is better off with him!" cried Glorfindel, his hand darting for his sword.  
  
"Enough!" roared Gandalf, coming alive. Elfhelm and Glorfindel froze. Éomer began to cry. Elrond angrily forced Aragorn and Théodred to their feet, pulling on their ears, earning two painfilled yelps.  
  
"A fine way to treat our guests!" snarled Elrond, feeling as though he was once more discipling Estel and the twins. He turned on Théodred. "As for you! You will not refer to the Lady Arwen, fairest of elves and my daughter, in such a manner, in this Home or any other if you desire your skin!" Théodred and Aragorn cringed, belittled by the elf's ancient and great temper. "If you are ready to behave like full-grown men, I will release you!"  
  
After their feverent assurances, he did so and cordially suggested they take their seats. "Now," Gandalf said, having successfully soothed Éomer, turned to face Glorfindel, Elfhelm, Aragorn, Théodred and Elrond. "The main purpose of you taking in Éowyn was to restore her to her family. Do not look at me like that Aragorn, you know it for the truth! However, you cared for her as though she were your own. For that, I am sure these noble Rohirrim are thankful. The time has come for Éowyn to leave the elvish woods and return to the plains of Rohan- to her own people! We, being Aragorn, Elfhelm, Théodred, Éomer and myself, shall depart in the morn to gather up this child who has been the cause of much worry. Are we understood?"  
  
All present, save Elrond, nodded dumbly. "Good," nodded Gandalf. "Now, Elrond, my pipe is empty and there are matters we must speak of before I leave. If you good men and elf will leave us....thank you, you are ever so kind!"  
  
~*~  
  
When Éowyn had lived in Lothlórien for four months, Arwen began to notice that her eyes often strayed to Haldir's sword. She remembered that Éowyn had originally left her home because they would not allow her to train with a sword. The elf-maiden then got an idea. She spent many hours perfecting it with Haldir, who thought it very clever indeed.  
  
Around this time, Éowyn moved in with Arwen. Aragorn had been gone for three months and the child missed the presence of another being in her home. She spent her days with Arwen and Haldir. However, once a week she would visit Celeborn, whom she had become particularly fond of.  
  
Éowyn sensed a great wisdom in the elf-lord and she was forever questioning him. Celeborn was slightly amused by Éowyn and proved to be exceedingly patient with her. On the night Aragorn finally met Théodred and company, Éowyn was sitting in Celeborn and Galadriel's sitting room, drinking warm milk and listening raptly to the tales of the First Age.  
  
"One night, Beren came stumbling into Doriath. There he came upon Lúthien, the daughter of Thingol and Melian. Though she was an elf and he a man, their love was instant and ever-lasting. Beren named her-"  
  
"Aragorn told me this story!" cried Éowyn.  
  
Celeborn stared intently at Éowyn. Galadriel looked away from the fire, a knowing look on her fair, wise face. "He spoke of a man and elf who had great love. But her father forbade it. As of yet, he said, there is no ending. Do you know the ending? Oh surely you do!" Éowyn rambled on until Galadriel held up her hand.  
  
"Hush child," she soothed. "Indeed, I do know the tale, though it is not the one that Celeborn was telling- his was a tale long past." The elf-lady stood and crossed to the window. Her blue eyes were mournful as she watched Arwen and Haldir strolling in an secluded garden. "The tale Aragorn told does not yet have an end, but I know more of it than Aragorn."  
  
She returned to the fireside and gathered Éowyn into her lap. "As the years passed, the man traveled far. One time, he returned to his love with a child. They both loved her very much and desired to keep her forever, though they both knew in their hearts they could not."  
  
"But the child was a wedge in their relationship," continued Celeborn, coming to crouch at Galadriel's side. "For the man loved the child more than anyone- including the elf-maiden. This was hard for the elf to bear, so she turned to an old friend for comfort."  
  
"Meanwhile," finished Galadriel. "The man began to dream of the day the child grew into a woman. And though he did not know it, he began to long for that woman."  
  
Éowyn sighed. "It does not sound as though the story will end happily."  
  
"No, it does not," agreed Celeborn, sorrow in his noble grey eyes.  
  
"I had hoped that it might," Éowyn frowned. "Aragorn will be so disappointed."  
  
"Do not trouble yourself," Galadriel smiled sadly. "The story may have a happy ending for someone. Something tells me, Aragorn will be just as happy as happy with the outcome!"  
  
~*~  
  
After a few days of hard riding, Aragorn, Gandalf, Théodred, Éomer and Elfhelm found themself in the heart of what had once been Hollin. The memory of the Elves remained and as Roheryn took him closer to Éowyn, Aragorn felt his heartbreak mending a bit, though it still wept. Ever since the moment in which he had gathered Éowyn into his arms, seperation had never occured to him. Yet now, it was almost upon them and there was naught he could do to delay it.  
  
Éomer urged his pony to a quicker pace and fell in line with Aragorn. "My lord," he began hestitantly.  
  
"Yes, lad?" coaxed Aragorn. Éowyn had praised her brother highly and Aragorn could tell the boy had great promise.   
  
"Is my sister well?" he blurted out.  
  
"She is quite well, young lord," replied Aragorn, with a smile. "She has been living with elves for a time and the air has done her wonders! You will have to be watchful in your games now! She may even be your equal!"  
  
"She already-"  
  
Before Éomer could finish his sentence, an arrow shot in front of him, startling him into silence. "Orcs!" roared Aragorn. He grabbed Éomer's horse's reins and lead him away from where the fierce monsters were emerging from the brush. "Stay here!" he ordered curtly.  
  
"Yah!" he shouted, driving Roheryn towards the Orcs. There was a flash of red light as Gandalf lit three Orcs on fire. There were only thirty in total. Aragorn drew his sword and crashed into their ranks. Roheryn did as much damage with his hooves as Aragorn did with his sword. Arwen had bought her lover a magneficient warhorse who was not spooked easily.  
  
Théodred and Elfhelm, who were deadly on horses, charged together, killing many more of the beasts. Aragorn slew another. One went for Gandalf's unprotected back, but Aragorn simply rode him down.   
  
"Aegnor!*" roared Gandalf. Ten Orcs burst into flame.  
  
Aragorn grinned as the two remaining Orcs fled. Théodred easily cut them down from the saddle. Aragorn could not help but marvel at his extraordinary talent. It looked as though the fighting was done for another day.  
  
"Let me go!" shouted Éomer. Aragorn twisted in his saddle. A lone Orc, unaware of his comrades' demise, was raising his sword to strike the final blow. "Noro lim, Roheryn!" cried Aragorn. Roheryn dashed at the Orc as only an elvish horse could.  
  
Just before the crude blade sliced through the air, an aptly timed blow from Aragorn's sword beheaded the Orc. He turned Roheryn around to see Théodred kneeling beside Éomer. "By the Valar!" cursed the Prince. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Yes, I am perfectly fine!" scoffed Éomer. "I wasn't scared at all. I had everything under control...even before Aragorn came!" He hid his shaking hands behind his back.  
  
"Thank Tulkas," breathed Théodred.  
  
Aragorn leapt down from the saddle. He exchanged slight nods with Théodred. The Prince may have come to take that which he held dearest, but for now, they had a strong truce.  
  
For now.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Elvish translations and tidbits  
  
* Atar- Father  
  
* Aegnor- Actually a character in the Silmarillion, it means 'Fell Fire' or 'Sharp Fire'  
  
~*~  
  
[1] Varda is another name of Elbereth. In fact it is her true one.  
  
[2] Hildor is the name of Men, given to them by the elves, meaning the Followers.  
Well, I think that's all. Once more, thanks to all the reviewers.  
  
Yours  
Elbereth94 


	8. Crashing Down

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
Author's Note: Just a short chapter for now. Look for a really long one coming soon. Enjoy!  
  
Chapter 8- Crashing Down  
Éowyn faced Haldir, bringing up her sword. In truth, it was an elvish long knife, but for her it became a sword. "Yah!" she roared, charging at Haldir. Their swords met twice, then broke apart. Without battlerage, Éowyn did not know how to weild a sword. After much pleading, she had convinced Haldir to teach her.  
  
They had left Caras Galadhon early in the morning. Arwen packed a picnic lunch and soon they had reached an open, fairly flat lawn, bordered by a ring of the great mallorn trees. Arwen sat down on their blanket and watched, slightly amused as Haldir instructed the little Rohirrim child.  
  
"What are you doing?" frowned Haldir, watching bemused as Éowyn leapt about, wildly waving her sword. "If you were to nance about like that, the enemy would cut you down from behind."  
  
"I was not nancing!" growled Éowyn. "I was fighting."  
  
"Well, you weren't doing it very well," remarked Haldir dryly. Éowyn rolled her eyes.  
  
"Here," Arwen sighed. "Let me show her. This, like so much in our world, needs a woman's touch!"  
  
"Do you not mean a woman's interference?" Haldir smirked under his breath. Arwen laughed and gently swatted him. Éowyn frowned up at them as an idea dawned on her.  
  
"Are you two promised to each other?" she inquired. The effect was instant. Haldir blushed a bright red and Arwen paled, leaping away from him.  
  
"No, no dear," disagreed Arwen, hastily. "Haldir and I are merely dear friends, Aragorn and I are promised to each other."  
  
"Yes, we are just friends," Haldir confirmed, through gritted teeth.  
  
"Oh," frowned Éowyn, clearly confused. However, she quickly brightened and turned to Arwen. "May I come to your wedding?"  
  
"I do not see why not!" laughed Arwen. "But for now, why do we not continue with your lesson?"  
  
Éowyn nodded eagerly, bringing up her sword. "Now," began Arwen. "All of that leaping you were doing would accomplish nothing; save getting yourself cut down from behind. Also, grip your sword hilt with both hands- there you go. Now, copy me. Slash, slash, parry, piviot, thrust."  
  
Éowyn brought her sword down twice, blocked an invisible enemy, spun around and thrust her sword into the gut of another unseen enemy. "Well done," complimented Arwen. "And again!"  
  
As the morning drew on, Éowyn's pace quickened and Arwen and Haldir showed her more difficult and deadly tricks. She was a swift learner and the sword seemed to belong in her small hands. When the sun reached its peak, Arwen declared a break and unpacked their picnic. They sat on a blanket, eating chicken sandwiches, lembas and dainty white cakes, accompanied by the clear water of the Galadhrim. Talk flowed freely and eventually turned to Rohan.  
  
"My parents passed on about a year ago," Éowyn informed them curtly, hiding her pain behind her steel grey eyes. "Afterwards my brother and I went to live with our uncle, King Théoden, in Meduseld. He is very kind, and lets us play in the Golden Hall. Then there is my cousin- he taught me how to ride. I also like Elfhelm, he taught me how to swear." Arwen blinked at this, taken back. "On holidays we go to visit the Steward Denethor in Minas Tirith. He has two sons- Boromir and Faramir. I like Boromir best, he says I am destined to be a shieldmaiden and that we will go to war together."  
  
"You seem to love your life in Meduseld," observed Haldir. "Why ever did you leave?"  
  
Éowyn hesitated. "I wanted to fight, but my uncle forbade it." She smiled lightly. "Aragorn explained to me that sometimes our families know what is best for us, even though we don't realize it." She looked up meaningfully at Arwen. "I miss him."  
  
Arwen shook herself momentarily, shocked at the parallels between Éowyn's situation and her own. "So do I," the elf-maid whispered. "So do I."  
  
"It is you, is it not?" Éowyn inquired. "You are the elf from Aragorn, Galadriel and Celeborn's story?" Seeing Arwen's look of confusion, Éowyn retold Arwen the tale, leaving out the bits with the child. She didn't seem to notice Haldir blush when he was so obviously mentioned.  
  
"Yes," nodded Arwen. "I am the elf."  
  
"I thought so," Éowyn replied. She stood and gazed at her surroundings. For so many months she had enjoyed their safety and tranquility. Only a few moments ago she had believed she could spend the remainder of her life in the Golden Wod. But learning that she was a piece of Aragorn's tragic tale made her feel cold and unwanted. Arwen had done so much for her, she could not accidentally steal the love of her life. "Arwen, can I go home?" she asked.  
  
"Of course," agreed Arwen. "You know the way? I will see you tonight at dinner."  
  
"No, home," stressed Éowyn. "Home to Meduseld."  
  
~*~  
  
Arwen watched sadly as Éowyn approached Galadriel and Celeborn. "I ask permission to leave your realm," she begged.  
  
Galadriel and Celeborn exchanged unreadable looks. "You have been as a grand-daughter to us," Galadriel finally said. "You may come and go at will in Lothlórien."  
  
"But, Éowyn, our scouts report Aragorn is close to home," Celebron informed her. "Surely you will wait to see him?"  
  
Éowyn hesitated. She missed Aragorn dreadfully and the thought of leaving without ever seeing him again was unbearable. "I will wait," she agreed.  
  
Galadriel watched as the little girl softly padded off. "Celeborn," she whispered for his ears only. "I fear serious measure may be needed for these three." Celeborn nodded thoughtfully.  
  
~*~  
  
Haldir trotted swiftly towards the barracks. He had a battleplan he needed to review and the scouts were due to return today. His practical thoughts were suddenly broken when he heard the sounds of soft crying. He went towards it, curious. He quickly found the source.  
  
Éowyn was sitting on a bench beneath a mallorn tree and beside a pond, softly crying. He started going to her, then halted.  
  
"...she became a shieldmaiden, full of battlerage, so cold, yet so very fair...so very fair!..."  
  
"...he would have a cold, white shieldmaiden o'er me...."  
  
"...Théodred should walk your dreams..."  
  
"...our star Carnil..."  
  
"...sweet water and light laughter until we meet again..."  
  
Haldir slowly retraced his steps, leaving Éowyn with her sorrow. She had caused much pain. It would be fitting if she felt some as well.  
  
~*~  
  
Aragorn stared into the fire. It crackled and in it he saw the face of the shieldmaiden who had been silenced by the elvish magic of Galadriel. She had been deadly, but he had a strange desire to meet her again and get burned by the fires in her steel grey eyes. He shuddered. The feeling of desire coursed through him, only matched by the desire to drown in the pools of Arwen's blue eyes.   
  
"May I sit, Lord Aragorn?" inquired a voice. Aragorn nodded and found himself looking at the intense Prince of Rohan.  
  
They sat in silence. Finally Aragorn looked over at Théodred, eager to be able to get lost in his passions. "Was there anything particular you needed?"  
  
"To talk," Théodred admitted.  
  
"Then, please do so," invited Aragorn.  
  
Théodred hesitated, then began. "When my mother died, I knew, somehow, that I would never take a wife. With me, my father's line would die- leaving the throne to the Éadigs- Éomund, I thought- though, now it appears as though it will be Éomer. Yet, I fear I have fallen in love with a woman. A woman who thinks I am but a dream and who is promised to another...to you."  
  
Aragorn's eyes flickered towards Théodred, but showed no other display of emotion. "How do you know Undómiel?" he inquired lightly.  
  
"I met her in my dreams," answered Théodred. "They are the oddest things- taking place in Imladris. She always tells me to go, lamenting some approaching doom. She...she speaks of you as well."  
  
"I will not pretend to understand this," shrugged Aragorn, slightly uncomfortable. "Nor will I pretend that I enjoy knowing you and Arwen share some sort of bond, yet I hold you blameless."  
  
"You do?" blinked Théodred, completely taken back.  
  
"Aye," nodded Aragorn. "A man cannot help his own feelings. I, of all people, know how easy it is to fall in love with Undómiel."  
  
"Yes," nodded Théodred. "I suppose you would." He paused. "I- I am truly sorry that you and Éowyn must be parted, but surely you see it is for the best?"  
  
Aragorn laughed dryly. "For the best?" he repeated. "No, but it is certainly fitting."  
  
"How so?" frowned Théodred.  
  
"I stole your love, so you will steal mine, and neither of us will be happy!" He stood. "Rest, Théodred. Tomorrow, you will meet Undómiel and be reunited with my shieldmaiden."  
  
~*~  
  
Théoden walked past her with barely a glance. "My lord?" she called after him. "Is there any news from Théodred?"  
  
"No," answered Théoden, with a tired smile. "But Lord Boromir wrote that they met Gandalf who knew of her whereabouts."  
  
"That is wonderful, my lord," she smiled. Théoden nodded and continued on his way. She swirled back into the shadows to face her oily comrade. "If Théodred returns, he will never allow his father to surrender to Lord Saruman."  
  
Grima Wormtongue nodded in reluctant agreement. "Our young prince may have to meet with an accident," he mused."  
  
"If there is to be killing, make sure you get the little shieldmaiden," advised the woman. "She is quite capable of growing into a lady strong-willed enough to lead the Rohirrim into battle."  
  
"Hmm," purred Grima. "How would you feel about killing a King?"  
  
The traitor's eyes gleamed eagerly as Grima spoke of glory, rewards and murder.  
  
~*~  
  
"Welcome back, Aragorn, Mithrandir," greeted Celeborn. He turned to the three Rohirrim. "A warm welcome to you, people of the plains. Long has it been since any of your people were in our Wood. Know that you are safe under our roof and will be treated as long lost kin. Rumil will guide you to your guest houses."  
  
Haldir's brother lead the Rohirrim out of the room, grateful his latest encounter with the Rohirrim was not as painful as the last. Galadriel smiled at Gandalf. "We have much to speak of, Olórin," she announced. "But, I do believe Estel would rather be with another."  
  
"Yes, of course," Gandalf nodded. "Go and see Arwen, Aragorn."  
  
"That is not whom I meant," Galadriel disagreed. "And he would not find her if it were. Haldir and Arwen are out riding to the North. However, you will find Éowyn on Cerin Amroth, Estel."  
  
Gandalf frowned as his eyes met Galadriel's, reading the undercurrants.  
  
~*~  
  
Éowyn stared dully over the land of Lothlórien. No Théodred. No Éomer. No Boromir. No Aragorn. What was the point of it all? Her heart sank, but a voice behind her caused it to leap. She spun to see Aragorn running up Cerin Amroth, calling out her name.  
  
"Aragorn! Aragorn!" she screamed in joy. "Oh Aragorn!" She dashed towards him.  
  
They met and he swept her up in a huge hug. She didn't even notice that they were both weeping as they clung to each other.  
  
All was right in the world.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: Quite a short chapter, but I needed it to set up events in the next chapter. Two more chapters and then on to the sequel- which will begin to be posted only after it is completely written to give me a bit of a break.  
  
A special thanks to Nihtfyr for mentioning 'Litle Shieldmaiden' on her bio in such a nice way and saying she was starting a religion after me..that is far too kind! Thank you so very much! You really made my day!  
  
Yours  
Elbereth94 


	9. Reunions and Partings

Disclaimer: See chapter 1  
  
A/N: Two more chapters to go- including this one. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I beg you to continue to do so. It would be a real treat to reach 100 reviews! Enjoy!  
Chapter 9- Reunions and Partings  
Come with me, close your eyes  
  
Hold my hand, it'll be all right  
  
Don't be scared, don't be shy  
  
Lift your head, it'll be all right!  
  
~*~  
  
Aragorn propped his back up against a tree, and as she had done before, Éowyn cuddled up in his lap. They watched the sun begin to dip towards the horizon in a comfortable silence. Aragorn smiled down at his little shieldmaiden. She was taller now, and more genteel. But he could still see the fire in her steel grey eyes and her hair was still bleached from long hours in the sun. "I have missed you, my little shieldmaiden," he whispered softly. They had had a wonderfuly long and happy reunion, but he could no longer put off the inevitable. This would be Éowyn's last night in the Golden Wood.  
  
"I missed you too, Aragorn," Éowyn declared. "I don't want you to ever leave again."  
  
"Oh, Éowyn," sighed Aragorn. He gently lifted her and forced her to face him. Her eyes, observant as only a child's could be, picked up his taunt face and his mournful eyes.  
  
"Aragorn?" she asked, worriedly, an ice cold fear developing in the pit of her stomach. "Aragorn, what is wrong?"  
  
"Éowyn, I would never leave again, had I any choice. But, sometimes in life, our choices are made for us and there is little we can do."  
  
"Aragorn?" whimpered Éowyn.  
  
"Your family is here, Éowyn," Aragorn moaned. "They have come to take you home to Rohan."  
  
Éowyn blanked. Part of her leapt for joy. She had been happy in Lothlòrien, but her spirit would always belong in the plains where it could be blown about by the infamous Rohirrim winds. It seemed like an eternity since she had ridden away and met Aragorn. She had missed her family dreadfully.  
  
Yet, the other part of her sunk. How could she possibly leave Aragorn, especially after just being reunited with him? She had never felt so strongly about anyone before Aragorn. He made her forget all her troubles. When she was with him she felt...safe.  
  
Yet, slowly, she was recalling the vision in the mirror, Galadriel's story and the love in Arwen's eyes when she spoke of Aragorn. If she lingered here, she could come between two people who had shown her nothing but kindness and love. Even as she felt two, fat tears drip down her cheek, she knew she had made the correct choice.  
  
~*~  
  
"Then the Halfling said 'Short! I'm not short, you are too tall!'" Haldir laughed. Arwen joined him. Haldir never failed to make her laugh- even though he had told her the popular elvish joke about the Ent and the Halfling nigh on one hundred times in the past mellenia.  
  
Haldir and Arwen halted their horses and Haldir helped Arwen down. "Arwen Undòmiel!" called a voice Haldir knew in his very soul. Galadriel walked over to them, looking grand and out of place in the courtyard.  
  
"Grandmother?" Arwen frowned, slightly bemused. "Is something wrong?"  
  
"Perhaps I could have waited for you to come to me," Galadriel admitted. "But I did not wish to chance you crossing paths with him before hand."  
  
"Crossing paths with whom?" Arwen inquired, exchanging puzzled glances with Haldir.  
  
"Théodred Ednew has come to Lothlorien," Galadriel announced.  
  
Arwen's and Haldir's jaws dropped.  
  
~*~  
Théodred sat at his window, staring blankly out at the beauty that stretched out before him. He had thought this would be simple. Come, retrieve Éowyn, and return home. Yet now he found he would first have to take her away from a man who he envied for his love with the woman who shared his dreams, and who he could not help but grant a begrudging respect.  
  
He sighed, tears forming in his eyes due to the glaring brilliance of the setting sun. It was a prime example of the old adage 'Nothing is as easy as it looks.' A tap on the door startled him from his thoughts. "Coming!" he called, standing and crossing to the door.  
  
He opened it. His world shattered. "We must talk, Théodred Ednew," Arwen Undòmiel said softly. The prince nodded and followed the elf-maid, in a daze.  
  
She lead him through the graceful, open halls, not wasting a glance on him. He found himself painfully aware of the little things; the gleam of the sun on the white buildings, the rustle of her skirts and the pounding of his heart. She lead him out of the city and in the direction of a large, prominent hill.  
  
"That is Cerin Amroth," she said absently, as though coming face to face with a thing of dreams was everyday.  
  
"Do you not find this just a little out of the ordinary?" he could not help asking.  
  
Arwen halted and turned to face him. She pursued her lips. He was a tall, lean man with a finely chisled face. His shoulder-length blonde hair was pulled back into a braid. His grey eyes were solemn and his mouth thin. He was a fine sight, but Arwen could not begin to compare him to Aragorn. "I wish your short soujourn here to be a pleasent one," Arwen explained. "But I do wish to speak on....it."  
  
"In that we are agreed," Théodred commented. An awkward silence fell. It was their first true meeting, but after sharing dreams, introductions seemed foolish. "Lady Undòmiel," Théodred began. "I must say, though I know you belong to another, that I find your beauty surpassing that of the stars. In truth, I believe myself to be half in love with you."  
  
Arwen smiled sadly and found his hand. "I am most honoured to be the object of your affection," she said softly. "But surely you know it cannot be. My heart belongs to another, son of Théoden." And such was the intensity in her blue eyes, that Théodred did not feel dismissed.  
  
"You hardly sound surprized, my lady," he commented weakly.  
  
"I am not," admitted the elf-maid. "Your heart was guided by the Fates, not by love."  
  
"I beg your pardon, but what you mean is unclear," Théodred frowned.  
  
"My grandmother, the Lady Galadriel, has a magical mirror," Arwen explained, beginning to walk again. "In it, she saw that if a man named Théodred should walk my dreams, than the love between Aragorn and I should be doomed."  
  
Théodred hesitated, wondering how best to phrase his next question. "Lady, forgive me, but was the love not already doomed? I cannot believe that love between man and elf could be requited without grave sorrow."  
  
"True, but I am afraid that the mirror showed me the woman who will replace me," Arwen agumented.  
  
"My lady," Théodred said hoarsely. "Forgive me."  
  
Arwen cupped his face with a slender hand. "Do not feel at fault," she begged. "It is merely another trial for Aragorn and I to overcome. I have faith in him, and in our love."  
  
"Arwen Undòmiel!" exclaimed Théodred. "Your serenity astonishes me!"  
  
"I have had three thousand years years in which to form a perfect facade," Arwen smiled. "Inside, I am screaming and crying. But it would not be proper for the people to see that!"  
  
"No, of course not," Théodred nodded dumbly.  
  
"Arwen?" called a male voice. "And Théodred?" Théodred did not miss the chill in Aragorn's voice as he and Arwen topped Cerin Amroth.  
  
Aragorn stood waiting for them. Arwen smiled at him, love in her face. Dimmly, Théodred wondered where Éowyn was. Arwen voiced his question.  
  
"Right here," answered Aragorn. He gently coaxed a lithe figure out from behind him. Théodred felt a heavy weight lift from his shoulder. Finally, their search was over.  
  
He barely recognized his cousin. She had grown taller and seemed more slender and fair. She wore a pale pink elvish robe. Her blonde hair was braided in a strange style, far different from the popular style in Rohan. Her face was a mask, serene and unchildlike. Yet, her eyes were still quite animated. They shone with unshed tears. But, watery as the eyes were, they still held some small amount of joy.  
  
"Are you not happy to see me, Éowyn?" he asked, wondering why the child did not run to him. Her grip tightened on Aragorn's hand and stepped back into his shadow. Aragorn met Théodred's and shrugged. "Éowyn?" coaxed Théodred. What would happen in Éowyn chose to stay in Lothlòrien? How would Éomer and Théoden go on? How would he, for that matter?  
  
"I am happy to see you," Éowyn answered softly.  
  
"You do not look it," Théodred attempted a weak jest.  
  
"Looks can be deceiving," Éowyn said absently.  
  
Aragorn gave her a light shove. She did not move. He knelt down. "He is your family," Aragorn whispered.  
  
"No, you are my family!" protested Éowyn. "They do not let me be myself!"  
  
"We are family in spirit," Aragorn replied, pulling her close. "I will always be with you, in spirit. I love you, my little shieldmaiden."  
  
Éowyn said something too low for Théodred's ears. Aragorn squeezed her tighter, than let go and stood. Éowyn cautiously approached Théodred. She reached out her hand and he grabbed it. She began to cry and allowed him to embrace her.  
  
"We have missed you in Meduseld," Théodred informed her. "Will you come home now?"  
  
Éowyn looked up at Arwen, who was weeping silently, then back at Aragorn, whose heart was in his eyes. Helplessly, Éowyn closed her eyes, then turned back to Théodred. "I will come," she agreed.  
  
~*~  
  
Celeborn watched quietly as Galadriel paced their chambers. He knew she had reached her decision long ago, but was unwilling to state it. He supressed a sigh. It was not as though he was going anywhere. He had all the time in the world; literally.  
  
After ten more minutes of watching his wife's distressed manner, he prompted her for an answer. She stopped and faced him with a weary smile. "I know what must be done," she admitted. "It is just...it is not something I approve of!"  
  
"Come here, my love," Celeborn beckoned. Galadriel came and perched herself on his lap. He waited a moment for her to let her strong facade drop, then gently kissed her lips. "You are so strong. I love you for it."  
  
"It must be very hard to love me," Galadriel lamented, snuggling up to her husband, reveling in his strength and warmth.  
  
"Nay," disagreed Celeborn, twirling one of her golden locks around his fingers. "Every day you make it easier." He kissed her again and pretended not to notice the single tear that splashed on his face from her seeing blue eyes. "Talk to me, Celebgil!"*  
  
"I know that if Aragorn is to truly prove his love for Arwen, he must face Éowyn as a young, fair maiden," Galadriel explained. "If he has his memory of this, their love will stand no chance, meaing Éowyn and Aragorn's. Do you see, my dearest?"  
  
"If he meets her and remembers his little shieldmaiden, nothing will come of it. All he will be able to think of it satutory rape," Celeborn sighed. "So you must take their memories."  
  
"Aye," wept Galadriel. "I do not wish it, but Fate cares not what I wish."  
  
"When will you perform the spell?" Celeborn frowned.  
  
"Tomorrow morning," she answered.  
  
"So be it," nodded Celeborn, pulling his wife closer.  
  
~*~  
  
"Éomer!" called a voice. Éomer spun around to see his sister grinning at him from his doorway.  
  
"É-Éowyn?" he gasped.  
  
"Who else would it be?" she teased. Éomer leapt to his feet and ran to her, embracing her tightly.  
  
"Oh, thank the Valar!" exclaimed Éomer when he finally let go. "I never thought I'd see you again! I thought you'd found another older brother!"  
  
Éowyn laughed. "Why would I do that, you bull-goose fool?" she scoffed. "I do not know anyone else who is weak enough for me to pound to the ground!"  
  
Éomer grinned weakly. Secretly he thought she could pound him as much as she liked as long as she never left again. But that was certainly not what he said aloud. "You could not pound me if your life relied on it!"  
  
The words were barely out of his mouth, when a fist rammed into his cheek. He crashed to the ground, slightly dazed. "You were saying?" Éowyn grinned, light rekindled in her eyes.  
  
~*~  
  
Éowyn curled deeper in Aragorn's lap, her face bathed in moonlight. His hand carefully stroked her hair. "Look," she whispered, pointing. "Carnil is so bright tonight! It is happy again."  
  
"Yes," agreed Aragorn, kissing her head. "Éowyn, I want you to know, if I had what I wanted, you would never leave the Golden Wood. But, you must realize, they are your family."  
  
"I know," smiled Éowyn sadly. She brightened slightly. "Uncle will let you come and visit whenever you want."  
  
"Perhaps," Aragorn said, noncommitedly. He couldn't help but think that highly unlikely. "We will meet again though. I am sure of it!"  
  
Éowyn smiled and sighed contently. "Never forget me, Aragorn," she begged.  
  
"I assure you, forgetting you is the unthinkable," Aragorn grinned.  
  
"Through the eyes of innocence  
You will find, you will see  
There'll come a time it all makes sense  
And you won't know, but it will show  
  
Deep inside."  
  
Éowyn fell asleep for the last time to the sound of Aragorn's husky voice.  
  
~*~  
  
Galadriel once more convinced herself what she did was right as she descended into the somber courtyard. Théodred was seeing to his mount, occasionally shooting looks at Arwen. Elfhelm and Éomer were deep in conversation with Haldir and Gandalf. Arwen, face tear-stained, had just said her final farewell to her temporary daughter. Aragorn was talking to Celeborn, but as Galadriel approached, he moved over to Éowyn.  
  
Their eyes seemed to speak volumes. Finally Aragorn pulled Éowyn close and whispered to her. "You will always be foremost in my mind," he promised.  
  
'No, she will not," Galadriel thought bitterly. 'And it is all my fault!'  
  
Aragorn kissed Éowyn's forehead, and they parted. Celeborn began his farewell speech. Galadriel stood beside him. "...You have been highly welcome guests," he finished. "If ever you should need refuge in our Wood, know that it shall be offered. This offer is particularly for you, dearest Éowyn, who is almost like blood to us. I hope you will visit us in the near future. Farewell on your journey home and in all others."  
  
Galadriel knew it was time. She stepped forward. Arwen looked at her, curious. "I am so very sorry, but this must be done." A look of horror spread on Aragorn's face as he realized what was about to occur.  
  
"No!" he hollered, sounding like a broken man. "No, the Valar damn you- NO!"  
  
Galadriel tried to ignore him. "You are all going to..."  
  
"Please, no," Aragorn wept. Éowyn began to run for him.  
  
"...forget."  
  
~*~  
  
Éowyn yawned, the sun bright on her face. She sat up and gasped. She was in the middle of a ring of Orc corpses, but her brain seemed unable to register any shock at this odd waking place. Brytta stood grazing nearby. Her memory came rushing back to her. Why had she run away? What a foolish thing to do! What a little idiot she had been!  
  
"Éowyn!" hollered a voice. Éowyn looked around. A single horseman galloped towards her. As he drew nearer, she recognized him as Marshall Elfhelm.  
  
She smiled sheepishly. It looked as though she had not gone quite as far as she thought. Still in clear sight stood Edoras; no more than a mile away. But as Elfhelm came riding up, gaping at the corpses, she could not help feeling a dull, hollow ache.  
  
~*~  
  
Gandalf let out a cry of frustration. Once more Gollum had eluded them. "Estel, curse me, but this hunt has quite exhausted me. I am two weeks late. Denethor will not be pleased."  
  
"Go on," sighed Aragorn, eyes twinkling. "I will hunt one week more afore I give up our elusive quarry. I am eager to visit Arwen." He frowned. Somehow, the thought of Arwen did not fill his heart completely.  
  
~*~  
  
"I will wait in secret five more months," Saruman degreed, studying the two Rohirrim traitors- Grima and Ella. "If in that time, you fools have not persuaded Théoden to support our noble cause, he will have to be disposed of. Can I count on your knife, Ella?"  
  
"Of course, my lord," she assured him, an evil glint in her eyes.  
  
"Grima, has Théodred proved difficult?" Saruman inquired shrewdly.  
  
"Quite difficult, my lord," admitted Grima.  
  
"Well, a cleverly laid raid will finish him," Saruman mused. "Are there any others you think will prove difficult?"  
  
"Éowyn," hissed Ella maliciously.  
  
"The King's niece?" frowned Saruman. "She is a child and a girl at that. Are you sure you are not seeing shadows at noon?"  
  
"Quite sure," insisted Ella. "If she is not murdered, you will regret it!"  
  
"Will I now?" smirked Saruman, more than slightly amused. "Do as you will." After all, she would not be the first promising child that fell beneath his blade.  
~*~*~*~  
  
AN: One more chapter to go! Please read and review!  
  
*Celebgil- Silver star 


	10. Little Shieldmaiden

Disclaimer: See chapter 1  
  
Author's Note: Here it is folks, the very last chapter, shortly followed by a final author's note. This is a bit of a songfic to Christina Agueleria's 'The Voice Within' Enjoy!  
  
~*~  
  
Chapter 10- Little Shieldmaiden  
  
~*~  
  
Young girl, don't cry  
I'll be right here when your world starts to fall  
Young girl, its all right  
Your tears will soon be free to fly  
  
~*~  
  
Éowyn laughed lightly as the wind tickled her face. Five months had passed since she had awoken among the corpses. It had had very little lasting impact on her and was now just a distant memory. She was still wild and could easily fight, and win, against any of the village boys. She was also misunderstood. She went to her training and put on a facade as she listened to Cook and Thelma. Even Cook had become slightly more bearable.  
  
If Éowyn had changed, it was merely because she had learned to hide her feelings. She had learned to tame the shieldmaiden and pretend to be meek, if only for a time. There was that and a new feeling- one that she did not like. She was terribly lonely. Of course, she had Éomer and the village boys, as well as Théodred and the soldiers, but still...there was something missing. She felt if she could only put her finger upon it, she would be able to fill the hole. But, she searched and searched and found nothing.  
  
So, when the hurt became too unbearable, she would saddle up Brytta and ride to the edge of Edoras and let the wind whip her. There was always a song on the wind. She would close her eyes and for a moment or two, the hole would be filled.  
  
~*~  
  
When you're safe inside your room, you tend to dream  
Of a place where nothing's harder than it seems  
No one ever want to bother to explain  
Of the heartache life can bring and what it means  
  
~*~  
  
"Aragorn," called Arwen. "Aragorn, you are miles away from me. Come back and tell me what you see."  
  
Aragorn smiled and forced himself to focus. "I am here and I see only the woman who holds my heart." He gently kissed her. They parted and Arwen laughed, snuggling up against his chest.  
  
They lay, curled up in the boughs of a mallorn tree, star-gazing. "You know, Aragorn, something very odd happened to me this morning."  
  
"What?" inquired Aragorn, only mildly interested. For some reason he could not tear his eyes off of the red star, Carnil.  
  
"Well, the blacksmith came to me," began Arwen. "He apologized and said Haldir had come on Galadriel's orders and was now delievering the sword to Éowyn."  
  
"What is so odd about that?" frownd Aragorn, trying to care. Lately, for five months at least, he had seemed unable to care about anything.  
  
"Well, I have never ordered a sword," replied Arwen. "And I certainly do not know anyone named Éowyn, do you?"  
  
"Do I what?" Aragorn inquired.  
  
Arwen rolled her eyes. "Know anyone named Éowyn- Éowyn Éadig?"  
  
Aragorn hesitated. "No, I do not think so," he said slowly. For a moment, the name seemed to spark something, but it was quickly extinguished. "No," he said, more certain. "I know no one by that name."  
  
~*~  
  
When there's no one else, look inside yourself  
Like your oldest friend, just trust the voice within  
Then you'll find the strength that will guide your way  
You'll learn to begin to trust the voice within.  
  
~*~  
  
Éowyn stared up at the strange rider in awe. He was very tall and fair with golden hair and sparkling eyes. The eyes were slightly slanted and the tips of his ears were pointed. His mount was not a Rohirrim horse, but was a grand white stallion that reminded Éowyn of the legendary Shadowfax. The wind blew at him and they stood staring at each other in silence. Éowyn thought it a good possibility she was dreaming.  
  
"Are you Éowyn Éadig?" inquired the rider.  
  
"I am," nodded Éowyn.  
  
"Ah, excellent," smiled the Rider. "I am Haldir of Lothòrien. I bring you a message and parcel from the Elfstone." He reached behind him and freed a long slim parcel. He handed it to her.  
  
She took it. It was fairly heavy and wrapped in a rich golden cloth. "The message," Haldir reminded her. He handed her a small envelope. "I was instructed to tell you to open them in private."  
  
~*~  
  
Young girl, don't hide  
You'll never change if you just run away  
Young girl, just hold tight  
Soon you're gonna see a brighter day.  
  
~*~  
  
Éowyn sat down on her bed. Théoden had been so pleased when she was recovered, he had given her her own bedroom. She supposed his heart was in the right place, but sometimes when the lonliness set in, she wished she was back in Éomer's bedroom to hear his steady, unruffled breathing.  
  
She lay the parcel down and cautiously peeled away the cloth. A sword lay, tucked in a leather scabbard. Her eyes widened and a grin split her face. Whomever this Elfstone was, he certainly knew her well. There was something written on the blade, engraved in the steel. She read it aloud. "For our little shieldmaiden."  
  
She frowned. That made no sense. She quickled shrugged it off. Odd writing or no, this sword was hers. There was no other Éowyn Éadig in all of Edoras...possibly all of Rohan. She leapt up and slashed it through the air. She suddenly heard a melodious voice instruct her and she did as it asked. Slash, slash, parry, piviot, thrust. The blade gleamed in the sunlight shining through the open window. Éowyn's heart soared. Eventually though, she put the blade down and opened the letter.  
  
A single piece of paper fell out. On one side was written.  
Come with me, close your eyes  
Hold my hand, it'll be all right  
Don't be scared, don't be shy  
Lift your head, it'll be all right  
LOOK AT THE RED STAR!  
Éowyn mused that over. She only knew one red star, Carnil. She did not like it very much. It always seemed so horribly sad. The verse was nice, though rather meaningless. She turned the paper over.  
  
  
forgiveness for you memory  
  
~G  
  
That made no sense either. She suspected the verse and instructions had just been written on the back of a scrap of already used parchment.  
  
There was a rap on the door. Éowyn started and grabbed the sword, shoving it under the bed. "Come in!" she called.  
  
Théodred entered the room. "Hello, Éowyn," he greeted. "I have not seen you all day."  
  
"I was outside," Éowyn explained.  
  
"Well, it is a shame you did not come to breakfast," Théodred grinned.  
  
"Why?" prodded Éowyn.  
  
"Because, you would have learned that we are having a visitor today."  
  
"Whom?" inquired Éowyn curiously.  
  
"Oh...Boromir," laughed Théodred. Éowyn squealed in delight.  
  
"Hurry and get ready," urged Théodred. "He and his escort have already entered the city."  
  
"All right," nodded Éowyn. "I will be along in a minute." She ushered Théodred out. She swifty undid her braid and brushed her river of gold until it shone. She deftly redid the braid more neatly. She reached under the bed and retrieved the sword. She buckled it around her waist as she had seen Théodred do countless times. Everyone would be too busy with Boromir's arrival to note it and she would show it to him at the first chance. She was fairly sure he had sent it.  
  
As soon as the sword was secured, she dashed towards the Golden Hall, spirits fully replenished.  
  
~*~  
  
Now in a world where innocence is quickly claimed  
Its so hard to stand your ground when you're so afraid  
No one reaches out a hand for you to hold  
When you look outside, look inside your soul.  
  
~*~  
  
Ella shrugged into the black mantle, listening avidly to Grima's instructions. "When Lord Boromir's party arrives, slip into their midst. One by one, you will go to the King. When your turn has come, begin to bow, then reach into the folds and bring out the dagger and kill him."  
  
Ella frowned. "Surely the others will react," she observed. "What becomes of me?"  
  
"You will be saved if you do your job correctly," Grima assured her.  
  
"And if I do not manage to kill him?" Ella inquired.  
  
Grima grinned. "There is Lord Boromir's now," he noted. "Get you gone."  
  
Grima watched as she melted into the bustling party unseen. Easy come, easy go. If the woman was fool enough to think she could kill a king in full view, she deserved to die. He had little hopes for the sucess of this attempt on Théodren's life. He would not remain to watch Ella die. He had real work to do.  
  
~*~  
  
When there's no one else, look inside yourself  
Like your oldest friend, just trust the voice within  
Then you'll find the strength that will guide your way  
You'll learn to begin to trust the voice within  
  
~*~  
  
Éowyn sat down in her small throne in front of Théoden's, but down a landing. Beside her, Éomer was reading. Éomer did like Boromir, but he did not have as strong of a relationship as she and Boromir did.  
  
The door swung open and Éowyn almost leapt to her feet. First came Boromir, grinning and waving. Boromir was even more popular with the ladies than Théodred. Even Éowyn could appreciate his maddening good looks. Boromir was followed by ten guards in shining mail, all marching sharply. Last came three ladies and a black-dressed figure. It was impossible to tell what gender the last was as it was so heavily shrouded.  
  
Before Éowyn could rush to Boromir, several royal formalities had to be seen to. A goblet was produced and both Théoden and Boromir drank from it. Then each member of Boromir's household came to bow before Théoden. Éowyn did not watch them as Boromir had begun making faces at her. She laughed softly and made one back. She felt something bump into her. She turned to see the black, stout figure passing her. It had been reaching into the folds of its' cloak and had accidentally elbowed her.  
  
Éowyn gasped. One hand was clutching an evilly glinting dagger. Her hand went to her sword hilt. There was no time to tell Théodred, who was watching with a slightly bored expression. She had to act. She had to act now.  
  
~*~  
  
Life is a journy  
It can take you anywhere you choose to go  
As long as you're learning  
You'll find all you'll need to know  
(Be strong)  
You'll break it  
(Hold on)  
You'll make it  
Just don't forsake it because  
No one can tell you what you can't do  
No one can stop you, you know that I'm talking to you!  
  
~*~  
  
"That's a knife!" hollered Éowyn. With one hand she reached out and grabbed a fistful of cloth, with the other, she drew her sword. As the hood slipped, Éowyn had time to acknowledge it was a female with a vaguely familiar face. Then the assassin was abandoing her knife for her sword and casting aside her cloak.  
'Hold the sword with both hands.'  
She swung the sword widly and sliced open the female's leg. The woman screamed in pain. "You insolent wench!" growled the would-be killer. "The Valar damn me, but I will teach you respect!"  
  
Éowyn almost froze in shock  
  
COOK  
  
Anger raged within her and she knew that this time, she would not be stopped from finishing off the Cook. There were shouts around her as archers yelled at her to get out of the way, but she ignored them. This one was hers.  
'Slash, slash, parry, piviot, thrust.'  
Éowyn brought her sword down in two accurate slices, forcing Cook to leap back. But Ella managed to regain the ground and Éowyn parried what would have been a deadly stroke. She pivioted and brought her leg up into Cook's stomach. She thrust her sword forward, but a hand caught hers.  
  
"Easy, Éowyn," soothed Boromir. "Killing is too good for this traitor, though she must die. She will hang in shame, not die proudly in a duel."  
  
Éowyn panted heavily and saw Théodred and Elfhelm were wrestling with Cook. Théoden was assuring several attendants he was perfectly fine, while trying to calm Éomer. Éowyn's sword clattered to the ground and she unwillingly began to cry.  
  
"Shh," soothed Boromir. "You did well, damn well. I did not know Théoden had agreed to let you train." Boromir huged her fiercely. Éowyn did not bother to correct him, she was too frightened.  
  
"NO!" shouted Théodred as Coook broke free. A dagger flashed as she rushed at Éowyn.  
  
"I may hang," she roared. "But I will see you dead first!" Her eyes gleamed. The dagger rose...this was it...  
  
"You will not!" shouted Boromir, revealed as the warlord he was. Faster than Éowyn thought possible, he drew his sword and gutted the Cook. She fell, screaming.  
  
Théoden made his way down to Éowyn. He smiled at her and pulled her into a hug. He then stood and faced the Hall. "Sirs and Ladies," he announced. "Today I learned two valuable lessons. One; you are never too old to learn, and two; when a woman says she wishes to use a sword, you had damn well give her one. From this day forth, all women in Rohan who wish to train with sword, or bow, or lance, are to be allowed to do so." He smiled down at Éowyn, whose face was shining. Boromir came forward and lifted her up. Théoden spoke directly to her, quieter so none but she and Boromir could hear. "Even you, my little shieldmaiden."  
  
~*~  
  
When there's no one else, look inside yourself  
Like your oldest friend, just trust the voice within  
There you'll find the strength that will guide your way  
You'll begin, to trust the voice within.  
  
~*~  
  
Ten years later....  
Éowyn, now eighteen, rested her head against Boromir's shoulders and felt his strong arms embrace her as they tumbled into the barley field of a farmer who resided a mile away from Minas Tirith. Their horses stood grazing nearby as their owners became lost in each other, escaping from the world of royalties and politics. Boromir kissed Éowyn deeply and passionately.  
  
"What do you think Father and Théoden are doing as we speak?" Boromir inquired with a coy grin as he came up for air, his reddish-blonde hair hanging in his face.  
  
Éowyn tenderly brushed it behind his ears and laughed softly. "Arranging our marriage, no doubt."  
  
Boromir rolled her over so she was on top of him. "And how do you feel about that?" he asked.  
  
Éowyn slowly came down on to his chest, kising his chin. "I do not rightly know," she admitted. Boromir seemed to accpet that as he kissed her again and again. They rolled over again, leaving Éowyn on the bottom.  
  
As close as they seemed, Éowyn and Boromir were not entirely sure if they were in love. Except for passionate nights like these, their relationship always seemed like friendship taken to the next level, nothing so dire as love.  
  
Éowyn glanced up at Carnil, her favourite star, though it was always sad. She felt something tug at her and she thought she heard a husky male voice whisper "my little shieldmaiden." She shrugged it off as Boromir began to trail kisses down her neck.  
  
For now, she would be Boromir's lover. But in the future, perhaps, she would become his shieldmaiden, or more importantly, his wife.  
Perhaps.  
Boromir playfully nipped at her neck. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear, demanding her full attention in their lovemaking. She smiled and pulled him to her, kissing him deeply. Tonight she would spend loving Boromir, and hopefully more nights in the future. But when she awoke and left his bed, she would always be a shieldmaiden.  
~*~*~*~  
END  
~*~*~*~ 


End file.
